GOING TO JERICHO; 



OR, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL 



IX 



SPAIN AND THE EAST. 



BY / 

JOHN FRANKLIN SWIFT. 




NEW YORK: 

A. ROMAN & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. 

SAN FRANCISCO: 
417 AND 419 MONTGOMERY ST. 
1868. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
A. EOMAN & CO., 
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York. 



k 



A 



TO 

EGBERT BENSON MOTT, JR., 

AS A 

SLIGHT TRIBUTE TO A FRIENDSHIP WHICH HAS 
SURVIVED MANY SUMMERS AND WINTERS, 

THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED. 



PREFACE. 



The memory of the literary mind runneth not to 
the time, when it was not customary for a book to be 
prefaced with a Preface. Hence the following, by way 
of an apology — for it would ill become a beginner in 
book-making to run counter to so time-honored an 
observance. Perhaps to apologize for having traveled 
at all would be quite as proper as to seek excuse for 
writing of those travels ; but having spent my own 
time and my own money, none but my own posterity 
have a right to complain, and as I am not vain enough 
to think my book will be read by posterity at all, I 
will trust to the future that both sins shall be forgiven, 
or, at least, forgotten ; besides we are apt to regard as 
of little weight those offenses of which everybody is 
guilty, and find an apology in the universality of 
their commission. 

In this age of travels and book-making, therefore, I 
may well hope to find immunity from every kind of 



6 



PRE FA GE. 



censure, except criticism. Criticism I hope to receive, 
I would wish it to be good-natured and friendly, but 
would rather have my book abused than not noticed, 
as I should be unhappy, indeed, to think it beneath 
contempt. 

Having consulted my conscience, my pocket, and 
my publisher, and finding myself at ease in the various 
relations, I have determined, since my journeyings 
have ended, to produce this book of travels from the 
hastily written letters to a San Francisco daily 
journal. As I have not drawn upon my memory for 
my wit, nor my fancy for my facts, I trust my 
readers will not be too scrupulously exacting in re- 
quiring point to the one or unfailing reliability in the 
other. I claim credit for no deeper research than the 
examination of the hand-books written for the benefit 
of travelers in the countries treated of. Mistakes of 
fact, when they occur, are not my own, but must be 
laid at the door of John Murray, Esq., of London. 

I have endeavored to be truthful and to represent 
what I saw of the world as I saw it, and to comment 
on what I saw from my own stand-point. If I did 
not look with absolute veneration upon all ancient 
things simply because they were ancient, and did 



PRE FA OB. 



7 



sometimes question the verity of well-authenticated 
traditions, it is rather the fault of an education that 
has been practical to the fullest extent of the Ameri- 
can idea, and an education that demands proofs to 
sustain averments. 

The two years' holiday spent in my travels abroad 
had been fairly earned by the daily toil of many years 
in the ^ead-mill of my profession, and in the active 
pursuit of business in California, where, it is truly 
said, with our excitement and extravagant haste we 
burn the taper at both ends and are ever fanning it 
to a blaze. Then I had a right to travel. 

Now as to the book-making part : this was, as I 
have said, an after-thought; in fact, the result of a 
harmless wager. I had been thinking of the multitude 
of stupid books that had been written. I reflected 
with anguish upon the number of such that I had 
waded through. I wondered what became of them 
when they got old. I thought how few were comfort- 
ably shelved upon some hospitable library : how few 
earned for themselves independence in old age ; how 
many who had fond parents, and who started in life 
with good prospects, yet came to grief. I had seen 
books of the very best morals hanging around country 



8 



PRE FA GE. 



inns, lying about railroad depots for a chance notice ; 
some were dragging out lingering lives in country 
farm-houses, some 'toiling for a bare existence in cir- 
culating libraries. I had seen them old, dilapidated, 
and seedy, on the shelves of book stores, growing 
dusty with age and disuse. And as I moralized, I 
reflected that some very indifferent books got on very 
well in the world ; when gold-leaved and illustrated, 
well dressed in fancy bindings, they might be found 
upon center-tables in the very best society ; and that 
some very stupid and seemingly very trashy works 
were held in great esteem. 

One day after my return, engaged thus musing, I 
asked my friend if he thought there could be a manu- 
script written so utterly worthless that nobody would 
publish it. No, he did not think there could, because 
if no one else would, the author would publish it 
himself. On reflection he admitted that he thought 
he might name a case where no publisher could be 
found rash and adventurous enough to make the 
experiment ; and when pressed to name the exceptional 
case, he layed the wager of wine in dozens that I could 
never get my travels into a book unless I paid for it 
myself. 



PEE FA CE. 



9 



The result, dear reader, is before you : I have won my 
wager. The leading publishing-house of the Pacific, 
whose name may be found on the title-page, is the ad- 
venturous firm, to put in print these hasty notes of 
travel in interesting foreign lands. If they afford you 
the pleasure in their perusal, that I experienced in 
traversing the countries of Columbus and Cortez, and 
in wandering through the lands of Desert and Palm, 
that margin the great sea of Rome, I shall be more 
than content, and we shall meet and part in the great 
journey of life with only pleasant remembrances. 

San Francisco, January 16, 1868. 



1* 



CONTENTS. 



Chap. Pagb 

I. Bayonne and the Border 13 

n. The Maid of Burgos 21 

III. Calling on Columbus., 27 

IV. A Bull-Fight at Madrid 33 

V. The Caliphate op Cordova 47 

VI. Seville and the Giralda 60 

VIL The Sherry op Kenneth McKenzie & Co 73 

VIII. From Cadiz to the Alhambra 87 

IX. Sleeping in a Diligence 103 

X. My First Step in Crime * 108 

XL Going to the Orient 120 

XII. Cleopatra's Needle and Thompson's Pillar 129 

XIII. Musr el Kahireh 144 

XIV. The Pyramids 163 

XV. The Red Sea 182 

XVI. The American Colony at Jaffa 190 

XVII. Going up to Jerusalem 205 

XVIII. The Holy City 217 

XIX The Thrashing-Floor of Ornan the Jebusite... 230 

XX. Oriental Law Practice 238 

XXI. The Jews in Jewry 243 

XXII. The Mount of Olives 254 

XXIII. Going to Jericho 262 

XXIV. Jordan and the Dead Sea 272 



12 



CONTENTS. 



Chap. Page 

XXV. From Mar-Saaba to the Birthplace of Our Lord. . 280 

XXVI. The Marigolds of Gethsemane 289 

XXVII. Journeying to Jaffa 296 

XXVIII. Coasting in the Great Sea 304 

XXIX. From Beyrout to Demitri Cara's Hotel 312 

XXX. Damascus the Holy 331 

XXXI. The Queen of Palmyra 360 

XXXII. Abd-el-Kader and his Harem 368 

XXXIII. Hakkim Michael Mascharka 380 

XXXIV. The Bass-wood Preacher 386 

XXXV. The Artesian Well at Passy 397 

XXXVI. Cyprus and Ehodes 404 

XXXVII. To Ephesus by Rail 413 

XXXVIII. Stamboul 418 

XXXIX. Far-away-Moses 424 

XL. About Ottar of Roses 434 



GOING TO JERICHO. 



CHAPTER I. 

BAYONNE AND THE BORDER. 

" It is getting cold in Paris and very dull. Let us leave 
it." This was said to me by General C , a fellow- 
townsman whom I had met abroad, and with whom I 
had been for a month past loitering about the boulevards 
and public gardens of the French capital. It was in 
November, and the idea of finding warmer weather was 
a pleasant one. " Very well, where shall we go ?" I an- 
swered. " I am indifferent. I will go to Spain, to Italy, 
to Jericho, if you please," said the General. 4t Suppose 
we go to all of them in their order, beginning with Spain." 
" That is better ; we will do it, and start to-morrow." We 
soon learned that the direct route to Spain was by way 
of Bordeaux and Bayonne, and almost as soon as agreed 
upon we were seated together in a coupe of the express 
train, flying along upon our journey at the rate of forty 
miles an hour. 

Of the two cities I possessed an equal degree of knowl- 
edge, which was confined to the fact that the first was 
famous for the exportation of red wine, -and the second 
for being the place where the bayonet was invented. 
These facts, though exceedingly slight, were, I thought, 
quite worthy of being paraded to the best advantage. 
My acquaintance with the General was but newly formed, 
and first impressions are important " What sort of a 
place is this Bordeaux?" he inquired of me as we ap- 
proached it. " Bordeaux," said I, looking gravely, " is 
an important town in France, fronting upon the river 



14 



GOING TO JEEICEO; OR, 



Garonne, which forms its harbor. In the way of works 
of art it possesses a large square overlooking the quay, 
at each corner of which stands a lofty column surmounted 
with emblematical devices referring to trade and com- 
merce. One of the principal exports of Bordeaux is red 
wine." 

He appeared considerably impressed with the extent 
of my learning, and when we reached the city, and I 
pointed out to him the river, the quay, and especially the 
famous columns, I found that his respect for me had 
visibly augmented. 

" How did you know about Bordeaux?" he inquired. I 
looked solemn, and declared that I could not now recollect, 
but that I had been possessed of this information from a 
period so early in my life that I could not, at the time, 
say bow I had acquired it. It is always well to conceal 
the sources from which we derive our knowledge. It 
helps the idea that we possess a great fund back of what 
we are at the time exhibiting, and also keeps down the 
discreditable suspicion that we obtained any portion of 
our education by irregular means. The fact was, that I 
had learned all I knew of Bordeaux from pictorial labels 
of that city on claret bottles. When we reached Bayonne, 
I found my companion to be quite content to receive from 
me the interesting circumstance connected with the im- 
provement in engines of war, without my stating how I 
became possessed of the historical fact. First impressions 
of earthly scenes may not be the most correct, but they 
are certainly the most vivid and the most lasting. Men- 
tal photography is instantaneous. The mental sketch of 
a city, of a river, of a field, remains as first seen while the 
memory lasts. A later visit to the same spot takes its 
own place in the mind, and stamps its own peculiar im- 
pression. And that faint and pleasing gleam — always 
identical and special to the scene recalled, that for a 
moment flashes the old place upon the recollection, and is 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



15 



gone, however we may straggle to retain it — is as likely 
to visit us at the antipodes as in plain view of the spot 
that originally gave it birth. 

A story is told, by one of the Irish humorists of our 
own time, of a Cockney who visited the Green Isle of the 
Ocean for the purpose of purchasing an encumbered estate 
as a shooting property. The gentleman in possession 
was opposed to the sale, and laid a scheme to prevent it. 
The Londoner arrived at night, and was invited to 
dinner by the gentleman whose improvident habits had 
brought the domain into the market. The dining and 
drinking lasted till near morning, leaving the Englishman 
in such condition that he was carried to bed, where he 
remained till nightfall. He was then called by his host, 
who informed him that it was time to get up, and that the 
party were about to visit the preserves to shoot pheasants 
before breakfast. A gun was placed in the hands of the 
stupefied Cockney, and for a couple of hours the air rang 
with the reports of fire-arms. Pheasants innumerable 
were placed in his hands as the trophies of his marksman- 
ship, and he was applauded as the best shot in the party. 
Then all returned to dinner, which, under the name of 
breakfast, was kept up all night, followed by the Cockney's 
being carried to bed drunk in the morning. This was 
continued for three days — shooting, eating, and drinking 
all night, and sleeping all day — until at last the stranger, 
upon being again called out to shoot before breakfast, de- 
clined to do so, and going on board his vessel, sailed 
away from the country, averring that the people were 
hospitable, that the liquor was good, and the game plenty, 
but that it was too dark in Irelaud for a permanent 
residence. 

Almost my sole recollection of Bayonne is connected 
with its darkness. 

It had been raining through the day, and at eight 
o'clock at night, when we arrived, a thick November fog 



16 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



enveloped the town, the harbor, and the circumjacent 
hills. The street-lamps made a faint effort to declare 
their existence, but the struggle was quite an un- 
equal one. 

The mist rolled in over thern so completely that an 
occasional luminous body floating past us in mid air, as 
we rattled along in the omnibus, and looking more like a 
paper balloon lying-to in a fog than any thing else, was all 
that we could see of the corporation lights of Bayonne. 
It is still a mystery to me how coachmen can without 
accident drive about so dark a city; but this one did, and 
brought us safely to the hotel. 

The porter took our carpet-bags, and told us that the 
train for the Spanish frontier would leave on the follow- 
ing morning at four o'clock. We were disappointed at 
this, for we were desirous of seeing something of the 
place. 

The legend of the bayonet had made Bayonne especially 
interesting to the General. 

But we wanted to get on to Spain. 

At last we resolved to " do " the town that night and 
go on in the morning. 

True it was dark, and to the darkness was added a fog 
that could be felt, but the idea at least was not without 
novelty. 

" What is to be seen in this city ?" we inquired of the 
porter. "The fortifications and the cathedral," he an- 
swered : and to examine these interesting monuments of 
art we immediately issued from our hotel. 

I can not describe the cathedral of Bayonne with any 
considerable degree of accuracy. I took no notes. It 
was too dark to do so. I am therefore thrown back upon 
recollection merely. Depending upon that uncertain au- 
thority, I can say that it is of doubtful architecture and 
vague proportions. That it looks solid enough for the 
first five and twenty feet from the ground, but above that 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



17 



point it seems to become uncertain in shape and change- 
able in style. In fact it appears to sway about in the air 
like some huge architectural monster, or swelling, as if in- 
flated with gas, and then sinking away into the surround- 
ing darkness. 

Images of saints and holy persons adorn the lower part 
of the jambs of the great door, and carved figures, one 
above another, continue as the wall ascends, but the 
character of saintliness diminishes with the altitude, and 
as they enter the hanging fog of Bayonne the distor- 
tion is increased till leering monsters start from the walls 
and wriggle and twist themselves more like demons than 
saints and angels, now reaching down as if to snatch 
at the wayfarer, now floating away into the impenetrable 
mist, or swinging about in the confines dividing the 
realms of vision from total darkness. 

We hear footsteps drawing near. A luminous spot in 
the fog approaches and passes by. It is a good citizen, 
equipped with a lantern, and going to his home. Another 
comes from the opposite direction and wends his mys- 
terious way, and more and more citizens with lanterns 
move through the darkness. But we stand beneath the 
portal, and these little currents in the great ocean of life 
float past the eddy in which we are waiting, all uncon- 
scious how distant the sources and how divergent the chan- 
nels which, for the moment, have approached so closely. 

We pass around to the side, and look up at the great 
rose window. But it too partakes of all the unsteadiness 
of the architecture of Bayonne. 

The fog whirls along and the round window becomes 
oval, then one side is gone and a twisting crescent alone 
remains. A dozen apostles, gigantic and blessed, all in 
stone, stand along the wall, looking solemn as a petit 
jury. I would not like to say how many cubits they are 
in stature. It would be easier to measure the degree of 
their sanctity. 



18 



GOIXG TO JERICHO; OB, 



But while standing beneath the window, with the fog 
rolling over them, we think of a picture of Jacob's 
Vision, the great window being the opening in the 
heavens above where beatific visions are beheld. 

We turn from the cathedral and wend our way along 
the fortifications. They are affected in like manner with 
all Bayonnese structures. At times they appear low and 
easily surmounted, but a moment after the walls of 
Rhodes are not more impregnable. 

The old porter stares as we pass into the hotel ; it is 
such a queer time to go sight-seeing. " Let us be called in 
the morning at half-past three, and secure two places in the 
omnibus for the station." The bowing guardian promises 
faithfully that we shall not be forgotten, and we retire. 

A sharp knock at my door, and the announcement that 
the omnibus was waiting outside, called me out of bed. 
I did not quite believe that I had been asleep. No one 
was up in the house as we passed out except the porter 
who had called us. We found Bayonne even darker 
than the evening before. Not so much as a coach lamp 
showed us our way to the vehicle which stood awaiting 
us. We crawled in, and found it already nearly filled 
with people sitting in silence. 

Their ages, their sex, their nationality, even their 
color, was shrouded in the impenetrable darkness of 
Bayonne. Arriving at the station half asleep, we made 
our way into a carriage, and into the remotest corner of 
it, to doze away the two long hours which should bring 
us to daylight and the Spanish frontier. 

I was brought to consciousness by hearing a loud yawn. 
It proceeded from a priest who sat next me. Daylight 
had come, and the train was driving along the sea- 
beach. 

On our right lay the Bay of Biscay, across which was 
already drifting the wall of fog which the night before 
had helped to make Bayonne so dark. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



19 



After taking a look at the sea and the winding coast- 
line, 1 turned about to examine our fellow-travelers. 

They were the same who had come with us in the om- 
nibus. A French priest, with black gown and broad felt 
hat turned up at three sides ; a young woman with an 
English face ; and a stout gentleman, with a Spanish air ; 
lastly the General, who still snored in his corner. 

I called to him, for at that moment we were passing 
the station of Biarritz, and it was something even to see 
the place where so many political events are conceived, 
so many state tricks invented, as at this the favorite 
summer retreat of Napoleon III. 

Irun is the frontier town on the Spanish side of the 
Bidassoa, and here we stopped to breakfast, to pass the 
custom-house, and to change trains. 

The profoundest depth of Spanish statesmanship was 
reached when, in granting the privilege to build a rail- 
way from the French frontier to Madrid, a condition was 
inserted that the track should be of a different gauge 
from that of the line from Paris to Irun. 

" This will be our chief protection," said the wise men 
of Queen Isabella's cabinet. 

" If Ave should permit the same gauge with French 
roads, French soldiers direct from the Casernes of Paris 
would soon be down upon us. They would never stop 
the trains transporting troops after leaving the Bordeaux 
station till they were at the walls of Madrid." 

The wisdom of this restriction, from a strategic point 
of view, is too obvious to require pointing out. 

Under the present system, her Catholic Majesty's sol- 
diers, in case of war, are quite sure to check the French 
at the frontier — at least while they are changing cars. 

One hour sufficed to pass our baggage through the 
custom-house and to transfer it to a train with a width 
of track consistent with the independence of the Spanish 
nation aud the stability of her Catholic Majesty's throne, 



20 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



In the mean time, we had refreshed ourselves with 
chocolate, made thick as oat porridge, in the Spanish 
style, and were soon whirling along toward San Sebas- 
tian, the capital of the province, and the chief watering- 
place of northern Spain. 



CHAPTER II. 



THE MAID OF BURGOS. 



In the middle of the afternoon, at a point half-way be- 
tween Vitoria and Burgos, our locomotive went wrong, 
and the train came to a dead stop in a deserted plain. 
We were there an hour before we could learn what was 
the trouble, so reticent are railway officials. Having at 
last learned that the machine was disordered, we still 
were kept in ignorance of what steps were being taken to 
get on to Burgos or how long we would probably remain 
thus becalmed. But the Spanish passengers, of whom we 
had many, took the matter as of course, and all sallied 
forth upon the green sward, and as the evening shadows 
closed down upon us, gave way to all the wildness of 
their pleasure-loving natures. The road-side was turned 
into a miniature Prado. The black-eyed damsels of 
Spain, with their lace veils thrown back, walked up and 
down, ogling the cavaliers, or with them joined in a 
dance to the music of the guitar, which was produced in 
some mysterious manner. By this time I had become 
acquainted with the priest. I had found him to be well 
informed upon American, and especially upon Mexican 
affairs. Like all of his nation, he took a lively interest in 
Maximilian, and thought his mission to that unhappy 
country a holy one, to oppose which was but little short 
of being criminal. " Why do you Americans oppose the 
establishment in miserable Mexico of a government wise 
and beneficent, such as meets with the approbation of the 



22 



GOING TO JER.ICHO; OR, 



profoundest thinkers and greatest philanthropists of 
Europe ?" 

My answers to this question had been the subject of the 
day's conversation. Commencing within the sound of 
the surf of the Bay of Biscay, I had continued it all 
through the gorges of the Pyrenees, scarcely stopping at 
the miles of successive tunnels which pierce the summit 
peaks of those mountains. 

But if I was eloquent upon the beauties of democracy, 
as developed in America, the priest was not slow to show 
the advantages of that paternal form of government 
which had wrought such wonders for his own France. 
When the train stopped in the fields, as I have men- 
tioned, we walked up and down and continued the 
political controversy. The General, who boasts of his 
fealty to the Democratic party, and who understands but 
little French, observing the earnest tone of the conver- 
sation, surmised its purport. Taking me aside, he sug- 
gested that there was danger that I would make a 
Black Republican of the good priest. 

The real fact was that I had been taking lessons in 
French at Paris for three months previous, and this was 
the first opportunity I had found to test my progress in 
that polished tongue* 

Nothing was further from my mind than propagating 
republicanism. I was simply airing my French. This I 
informed the General of, and put his mind at rest. But 
the poor priest entered enthusiastically into the argument, 
without dreaming of the reason of my persistence, and 
from the fact that I proved a most excellent listener, I 
trust with a reasonable amount of satisfaction to himself. 

At nine o'clock a locomotive came up from Burgos, 
and we steamed away for that city. Burgos is conceded 
to be the first town, after leaving the French frontier, 
where the customs of Spain in all their ancient purity are 
preserved. The cathedral is also understood to be one 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



23 



of the most imposing and perfect of Gothic structures 
in all Europe. Either one of the foregoing' facts would 
perhaps be sufficient to account for the stopping of all 
Spain-going tourists at Burgos for the first night. 

The Fonda del Norte had been so highly recommended 
to us that we gave it the preference. A supper of 
Spanish bread, Spanish ham and eggs, cooked in Spanish 
oil, with innumerable bottles of the red wine of Vcd de 
JPena, was prepared for us within ten minutes of our 
arrival, after which we were shown to our rooms by one 
of those, dark-eyed beauties for which Spain is so famous. 
"Buenos noches, Senores," she said, with a silvery voice, 
bowing low her black eyes-, concealed by long fringing 
lashes, and gave the General a candle. There was a 
queenly grace in her manner indicating noble origin. He 
took the light from her hand, but continued to gaze 
steadfastly in her face, as if trying to recall a lost recollec- 
tion. Meanwhile the grease trickled down from the 
candle, strikiug his trousers just above the knee, and 
gradually forming into an oleaginous stalagmite. Even 
when the door was shut upon the retreating form of the 
maid, my friend stared abstractedly in the direction of 
the door, as if lost in thought. 

"The young woman appears to interest you greatly," 
I said to him. 

u Yes ; I think I have seen her before," he said, with a 
start. 

I, too, thought the face of the young person somewhat 
familiar, and took the liberty of suggesting as much to 
him. But he did not appear to take the hint in good 
part, and going into his room slammed the door after 
him as if offended with me. 

My first view of the cathedral of Burgos was from the 
window when I arose in the morning. In the foreground 
an expanse of roof, covered with red baked tiles, looking 
like so many acres of bisected flower-pots. In the midst 



24 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



of this rises up a cluster of Gothic spires resembling a 
grove of petrified cypress-trees. 

How calm the weather must be, I thought. If there 
was so much as a passing breeze this brown : stone forest 
would sway and bend before it. I hastened down to 
breakfast. I found the General at the table, not eating, 
but gazing intently at the chamber-maid of the night 
before, who now assumed the character of waitress. 
" Do you make her out, General ? " "No !" he answered ; 
" bat if I could only speak her language I would try and 
find out where we have met before." " It is probably in 
some old picture of Murillo that you have met the face," 
said I, and we sallied forth to see the town. Burgos has 
been finished for more than five hundred years, and all 
that time no change has taken place. Its fortifications 
are as solid as the day Diego Porcelas built, 01* Don 
Pedro the Cruel performed his famous exploits before 
them. It looks like a sort of toy city, and fits its walls 
as snugly as a set of chessmen does the box in which they 
come from the manufactory. 

All Burgos is stowed in this stone chess-box, and there 
is exactly room enough for it and none to spare. Like 
some geometrical puzzles, if the place of one piece were 
changed, it would require great skill to put it back again. 

The houses are built close up to the cathedral and 
join their walls to its huge sides, so that a view of its 
exterior can only be had by walking to the open plazas 
many rods away. And the entrance is up a hill-side and 
through what looks to be the back yards of a whole block 
of hovels, where the future soldiers of Queen Isabella, 
now bare-legged urchins, expand their mental faculties 
by the fabrication of mud pies. At the door we are met 
by the sacristan, in robes which, in our ignorance, we 
take to be priestly, and are shown through the splendid 
structure. 

The sculptor has made his mark plainly upon this church. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



25 



Its walls literally swarm with human figures in stone. 
Statues loiter about the door in squads. Regiments of 
statues cling around the great Gothic pillars. Whole 
brigades of them throng the walls, the windows, jambs, 
and the cornices, or scale the rugged sides of the choir. 

Apostles by the baker's dozen, scores of archbishops, 
glorious companies of popes, and holy armies of saints 
and martyrs, some standing upon pedestals, others 
crouching about in prayer, and more stretched supinely 
upon the earth, with hands and toes upturned, looking 
not only dead, but dead and turned to stone. 

The paved floor, large enough to be the open fields, is 
spotted over with the crouched figures of the veiled 
daughters of Spain in earnest devotion. And so still are 
they, that at first we think this is some more of the 
sculptor's work, and that female saints in marble cover 
the floor in attitudes of prayer. 

In a gallery hard by, and high upon the wall, is the 
"box of the Cid," and to this we are conducted with 
due solemnity. 

Burgos claims an extra share of the glory of Spain's 
hero, for here he was born and lived, and within her 
walls repose his ashes. " What is the story of the box ?" 
we inquired of the sacristan. 

With a look which plainly implied his contempt for 
persons ignorant of so familiar a circumstance, he told 
us how that worthy, at a time when the fortunes of war 
appeared strongly against him, had filled the box with 
sand, and, pretending that it contained jewels and treas- 
ures of great value, pledged it to some unbelieving Jews 
for six hundred marks in gold. The sacristan related to 
us with patriotic glee how the hero insisted that the box 
was not to be opened till his return from the wars. 
" Did he ever repay the Jews ?" I asked him. " History 
has not informed us upon that point," he answered with 
an air of indifference, plainly showing that, at least in his 
2 



26 



GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



opinion, the question was of no importance. We passed 
out of the church and strolled down toward the Plaza 
de Constitution, as the central square is called. 

The houses are all built with arcades projecting over 
the sidewalk, and under these the gay cavaliers and black 
eyed senoritas stroll up and down, ogling each other, 
or running in and out of the little shops, making their 
purchases. 

The Spanish costume is worn by the ladies of Burgos 
with the strictest care. We did not see one bonnet in 
the town, and of course not one establishment for the 
sale of millinery goods. 



CHAPTER III. 



CALLING ON COLUMBUS. 

Upon arriving at Valladolid station we took our carpet 
bags and shawls, and, passing out of the door, looked 
about for a carriage to take us to the Fonda de Paris, 
the hotel to which we had been recommended. It was 
nine o'clock at night, and very dark. We did not even 
know in what direction the town was situated, for, as 
usual in Spain, the station was quite remote from the 
city. 

Three or four rickety carriages were backed up against 
the colonnade waiting for passengers. " Which is the car- 
riage of the Fonda de Paris f I asked of one of the 
coachmen. Removing his hat with great deference, he 
informed me that he had the honor of driving the coach 
of that magnificent establishment, and would most will- 
ingly conduct us thither. The General remarked as he 
got in that he had never seen a more desperate-looking 
villain than this fellow, except, perhaps, the one which 
sat beside him on the box. They certainly did not ap- 
pear to be a very promising couple for an escort through 
a lonely country. They rather resembled the interesting 
and energetic foreign youth who in America convey 
voters from one polling-place to another upon the oc- 
casion of primary elections. I said: "General, surely 
you have been a member of the Democratic party long 
enough not to be frightened at a hard face." This he 
was forced to admit, and we took our places in the crazy 
old vehicle. 



28 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



I confess that I did not feel as comfortable as usual, nor 
was I in the least reassured when the ugliest of our captors 
came down and peered in at the window as if to make 
sure we were properly secured in the trap. This done, 
he took his place upon the seat with his confederate. 

" I shall feel more at ease when we get to the hotel," 
said the General. I confessed to the same line of thought. 
Just then the horses set off at a tremendous gallop, plung- 
ing directly into the darkness that bounded the station 
yard. At every instant we expected the whole establish- 
ment would be brought up with a crash. Why they 
should drive so furiously we could not imagine, unless 
we were being kidnapped. We soon passed quite away 
from the lights about the station, and yet there were no 
indications of approaching Valladolid. Suddenly the 
carriage came to a stop. It was the darkest and most 
silent place we had. found. Fit spot for deed of blood 
and mystery. We heard the ruffians descend from the 
box and approach the door. Being entirely unarmed, 
there was nothing to do but await breathlessly the result. 
"Are your Excellencies sincere in your resolutions to 
proceed to the Fonda de Paris ?" one of them asked. 
What a question ! " Most assuredly we prefer it to all 
other hotels," was our reply. Here followed a long con- 
versation between the two robbers, followed by the ques- 
tion ! " Are the senors acquainted with the character of 
that establishment ?" u Why, of course we are ; it is 
kept by Martino Berben, is it not ?" Another murmuring 
between the two assassins, and then from the big fellow, 
" Alas ! senors, we regret to be compelled to inform you 
that the worthy Martino Berben, whom Heaven has in 
its holy keeping, was cruelly murdered in his bed but a 
few nights since, and the murderers have at this moment 
undisputed possession of his formerly most respectable 
and well-conducted inn." " But how is it you told us 
you were the coachman for this house, the Fonda de 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



29 



Paris ; are you not ?" we asked. " So I am ; but what 
can a poor man do in Spain, where bread is so dear ? My 
first impulse was to convey you to our house, regardless 
of the consequences, which would certainly have been 
death to you both. But pleased by the liberal manner 
of the large gentleman, myself and companion have re- 
lented, and desire in good faith to save you." 

"But," continued the big murderer, " if I might be 
permitted to suggest, there is in quite another quarter of 
the town the Fonda del Siglo de Oro, one of the most 
quiet and orderly inns in all Spain. If we should con- 
duct you there, your Excellencies would be in perfect 
safety." We speedily agreed to this, and were turned 
about and conducted at a moderate pace to the house in 
question. 

We were soon seated at a good supper, and engaged 
in discussing the escape we had run of sharing the fate 
of the unfortunate Martino Berben. Though now quite 
safe, I took the precaution of piling all the loose furni- 
ture of my room against the door before retiring. 

On awakening the next morning and looking out upon 
the street, to my surprise I read, in large letters upon 
the house directly across the way, the flaming words 
Fonda de Paris. I leaned over the parapet and looked 
down at our door. 

There stood the biggest of the two murderers staring 
complacently over at the rival establishment with all the 
satisfaction of having done a good action impressed upon 
his countenance. 

Valladolid, the ancient capital of the kings of Castile, 
is much fallen away from its former grandeur, Not 
more than fifty thousand inhabitants remain true to the 
old place, and the ruins of half a dozen ancient churches 
give not only a vivid idea of its original importance, but 
of its present decay. 

It was here that Ferdinand and Isabella kept their 



30 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



court, and hither came Christopher Columbus, beseech- 
ing permission to present a world to Castile and Leon. 
And here, long after the Admiral had drank to the 
bottom the bitter cup of royal ingratitude, he breathed 
his last ; for it was at Valladolid, on Ascension Day, 1506, 
where he had for years danced attendance in the vesti- 
bules of the great, imploring vainly for justice, that 
Columbus died. 

There is a bad museum at Yalladolid, containing a 
gallery of the worst pictures in Europe. A description 
by me of the best picture-gallery would be dull reading. 
I shall, therefore, not attempt this one. 

We visited the gallery at Yalladolid, paying for the 
privilege one pesito each, and regretted both the time 
and the coin. 

Having walked about the town a half day, we became, 
by some accident, informed of the fact that the house 
of Columbus still existed and could be seen. 

We returned to the hotel and asked the landlord to 
direct us to it; but he could not do so, he had never 
heard of Columbus or his house. The inn was ran- 
sacked for information. At last, the cook was found to 
know something about the business. 

It was, he thought, in the Calle de la Magdalena. To 
that street we therefore directed our steps, and after an 
hour's search, found it. The street is but one block long, 
and the house and garden of the Discoverer occupies one 
entire side of it. The house is two stories high, plain 
in appearance, and with a door almost in the middle. 
An examination of the exterior developed the fact that 
the original entrance had at some time, in consequence of 
a crack in the wall, been filled up to strengthen the 
building, and a new door opened directly by the side of 
the old one. 

The town authorities had evidently just learned the 
value to the city of this architectural treasure, for close 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



81 



to the door was a bright new medallion head of Colum- 
bus, cut in marble, and fixed in the wall. It could not 
have occupied its place more than a day, for the mortar 
around it was still soft and damp, and the stone pavement 
beneath the tablet was white with splashes of freshly 
dried plaster. 

My companion was desirous of entering the place, and 
procuring from the garden a flower or leaf, to bear away 
as a souvenir. 

We therefore knocked at the door, and were answered 
by a gentleman of respectable dress and bearing, who, 
holding the door half open, demanded to know our 
business. 

" Is this the house of Columbus ?" we inquired. The 
reply was in the affirmative ; but the door remained par- 
tially closed, the gentleman looking suspiciously at us. 
We said that we would like to come in if there was no 
objection. 

The door was not opened for us. It was quite evident 
that we were thought to be strangers calling upon the 
former proprietor. "The Senors are quite welcome to 
enter ; but Columbus no longer occupies the house, and, 
in fact, is dead," replied the gentleman, meantime hold- 
ing the door firmly in his hand. " We are aware of the 
death of Columbus," we said ; " but we would like to 
come in and see his house, and if permitted, to get a 
rose, or a leaf from his garden, by which to remember 
our visit." 

But still the door did not move, except, perhaps, to 
narrow the opening so that only the face of the gentle- 
man could be seen. " The Senors are quite welcome to 
come in," he repeated in a firm tone of voice ; " but 
Columbus is dead, and his family no longer occupy the 
house. As for the garden, like the house, it is mine, and 
Columbus has absolutely nothing in either." Having 
thrown this light upon the condition of the estate, the 



32 



GOIXG TO J E R I OHO; OB, 



heirs, the administrators, and the residuary legatees of 
the deceased Columbus, his polite successor in interest 
closed the door in our faces, locking it with a loud clank, 
and departed, leaving us staring at the outer walls. 

He had evidently been annoyed before by friends of 
the Great Admiral calling at his house and disturbing 
his rest. Columbus was a sort of Monsieur Tonson, of 
whom he was never to hear the last. 

We gave it up in despair, and wended our way to the 
other side of the town to a house which, if not more in- 
teresting to us, was at least much better known in Val- 
ladolid than the one we had just visited : it was that of 
the author of Don Quixote. 

We had no difficulty in finding the house of Cervantes. 
Even the beggar boys could point it out to us. The 
fact that there is such a thing as a new world in the dis- 
tant West is not so well known in Valladolid as was the 
most trifling exploit of the Knight of the Sorrowful 
Figure, or of his good esquire Sancho Panza. The 
house of Columbus affected grandeur three and a half 
centuries ago, but the abode of Cervantes could have 
been but little better than a hovel even at that remote 
period. Now it is wretched in the extreme. The ground 
floor was occupied by a cobbler, but not exclusively, for 
a she goat was tied by the leg in one corner of the room, 
and munched carrots at her leisure, as if quite at home. 

What was above we did not venture to ascertain. 
The filth of the lower story forbade further explorations. 
Like the house of Columbus, this one had been within 
the last three days treated to a new marble tablet, with 
a medallion head of the occupant to whom it owed its 
celebrity. 



CHAPTER IV. 



A BULL-FIGHT AT MADRID. 

Madrid, says the guide book, contains 400,000 inhabit- 
ants. It is situated on the banks of the Manzanares, is 
over 2,000 feet above the level of the sea, has the most 
elevated situation and the finest view of the surrounding 
country of any capital in Europe. For the truth of the 
above statement, Monsieur G. de Lavigne, the Bradshaw 
of Spain, is responsible. The view spoken of is a fine 
one in point of extent, but it is over what in our country 
would be called but little better than a desert. Stand- 
ing anywhere on the west side of the city, a territory of 
many leagues is spread out before the eye. But it is 
destitute of trees and almost of vegetation. That side 
of the city is built quite up to the abrupt and precipitous 
side of the river, upon a sort of bluff bank, not less than 
500 feet above the stream. Upon the very brow of the 
hill stands the queen's palace, a fine building, resembling 
in size and appearance the Old Louvre in Paris. The 
city is compactly built. So much so, that it appears in- 
credible, at first, that so large a population could be hud- 
dled together in so little space. But the houses are all of 
three, and seldom less than six, stories high. A walk of 
ten minutes in any direction takes one quite out of the 
place. There are no suburbs, no villas, outskirts, or fau- 
bourgs as in American cities. It is built up solid with 
six-story houses as far as there is any town. With the 
last house of the row ceases the city, and all is country 
gardens or a desert waste, from that qn, as far as the eye 
can see. 



34 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



This is accounted for by the insecurity of life. When 
once the police are out of hearing, there is no safety what- 
ever. If a man should attempt villa life he would be 
robbed, and perhaps murdered, in his new home before a 
week would pass. A peasant that works one day and 
begs the next, will not generally hesitate to steal or rob 
the third. As for murder, a people that is delighted at 
seeing a furious bull rip out the entrails of a poor blind- 
folded horse, would not stand upon much ceremony about 
that. If a house should be built a half block beyond the 
present line of habitations, it would remain without a 
tenant till the town reached it, if it did not in the mean 
time rot down. People try to get as near the center of 
the city as possible. As for a separate house for each 
family, such a thing is exceedingly rare. People live on 
flats or floors of houses; if they are able, taking a whole 
floor to themselves. The rich do this. The poor simply 
have rooms, many families living together on a floor. 
Here, as in all parts of Europe, the finest looking and 
ablest bodied men are in the army. 

The Spanish soldiers are the handsomest men, so far as 
face is concerned, in the world. It is a handsome nation. 
But here the superiority ceases. Not one in twenty of 
the common soldiers can read or write. I had a written 
address of a house that I wanted to visit, and stopped as 
many as twenty soldiers, one after another, and inquired 
the way. I did not find one that could read the address 
on the card. Nor did they appear to feel in the least 
humiliated about it, but freely stated their inability, as if 
it were an ordinary matter common to all. I conversed 
with well-dressed, intelligent Spaniards, who expressed 
their surprise that English and not Spanish was the lan- 
guage of any part of America. 

The term people, as employed in America, is inappli- 
cable to any portion of the population of Spain. They 
have inhabitants, but no people. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



815 



The nation is divided into three classes : the nobility, 
the priesthood, and the peasantry. The nobility are 
devoted to pleasure or politics. Of what is understood 
by politics, I shall have something more to say. The 
peasantry are industrious, sober, and frugal. With a wise 
government much could be made of them. This class 
care nothing about matters of state. They do not know 
who is at the head of the government. Statesmanship 
in Spain simply means the intriguing and fighting neces- 
sary to hold power. A change of administration is 
generally brought about by violence, and is called a 
revolution. 

The party is successful which obtains and holds posses- 
sion of the queen. It is interesting to observe the influ- 
ence that the inventions of the nineteenth century have 
exercised upon even revolutions. 

Rifled cannon and breach-loading muskets have 
greatly shortened wars. The magnetic telegraph has 
produced the same effect upon revolutions. A Spanish 
revolution as worked by telegraph is a very simple affair. 
The fighting is all done around the telegraph office in the 
Puerto, del Sol, at Madrid. The struggle is for the pos- 
session of that wonderful instrument. If the telegraph 
is captured the revolution is successful. For, the moment 
it is in the hands of the insurgents it is put into opera- 
tion in the transmission of the news. The revolutionists 
tell their own story, and they take care that it is a good 
one. The lightning informs each provincial town from 
Irun to Barcelona that the people having submitted to the 
tyranny of Narvaez and the Camarilla, until all hope of 
justice from that quarter was lost, have risen in their 
might and hurled the tyrants from power. That the 
blessed queen, having been long overawed by these des- 
pots, has at last come to hear the groans of her subjects, 
and has called to her councils O'Donnell, or Prim — as the 
case may be. 



36 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



That the oppressors, including the infamous Narvaez, 
have, by orders of her gracious Majesty, been shot to 
death, without the city gates, and that perfect order now 
reigns in Madrid under the new administration. 

But if, on the other hand, the party attacking the tele- 
graph is repulsed, no news of the attempt is transmitted 
to the provinces until the matter is at an end, and the 
ringleaders, which means any who happen to be caught, 
have been shot, according to the invariable rule. Then 
the public is informed that " a feeble party of malcontents 
have wickedly attempted to disturb the peaceful reign of 
our gracious sovereign, but that the treasonable conspi- 
racy has been most loyally suppressed, and all the traitors 
immediately executed in accordance with the law and the 
will of the queen. vN The people in distant parts must act 
upon this intelligence, for they can get no other. 

The party holding the telegraph holds the government. 
The queen immediately gives in her adherence, appoints 
the chief of the movement to office, signs all papers he 
may present for approval, and reigns by his advice until 
another revolutionary party gets control of the telegraph 
and of her majesty. 

In the mean time, the ordinary business of the country 
has not been disturbed. The peasant who is tending his 
goats in the Pyrenees, the farmer of Estremadura, or the 
merchant of Seville or Barcelona, does not even know 
that a change has been made or attempted in the gov- 
ernment. 

The queen is as well satisfied in the hands of one 
chieftain as another. It is all the same to her. She has 
her palace, her carriages, her confessor, and her lovers, 
just the same under O'Donnell as under Xarvaez, and so 
long as she is undisturbed in these luxuries, the country 
may be governed by those who like to do it. This is 
Spanish politics. 

On the first Sunday morning after reaching Madrid, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



37 



we left word at the desk of the secretary of the hotel to 
procure for us two good places at the bull-fight. 

To say that this is the national amusement of Spain 
would be to repeat a fact well known to all. It is to this 
country what the opera is to Italy, and what the beer 
gardens are to Germany. Bull-fights are to be seen in 
the greatest perfection at Madrid and*at Seville. 

In addition to the public bull-ring at Madrid, there is 
a private one belonging to a society of amateurs, not 
unlike the jockey clubs of England and America. This 
is maintained for instruction merely, and ranks in bull- 
fighting, somewhat as the conservatoires of Leipsic or 
Berlin do in the musical world. The graduates of this 
school take high places in the art of bull-fighting. 

The Plaza de los Toros, in Madrid, will easily seat ten 
or twelve thousand spectators. 

Each bull-fight costs the management about two thou- 
sand dollars. But the amphitheater being large, and the 
attendance almost invariably to fullness the prices are 
very low. We were surprised to find that our tickets 
with reserved seats cost only about twenty-five cents of 
American money. 

To be a great bull-fighter in Madrid, is as much the 
ambition of every able-bodied young man of the class 
below the nobility in that city, as in Naples it is to be 
first tenor at San Carlo. And the position, when attained, 
is as enviable, the emoluments as great, and the personal 
prestige, with his class, as considerable. 

Bull-fighters are divided into four classes. First in 
rank are the Espadas. These are the men who kill the 
bull after he has been sufficiently baited and worried. 
The Espada, as his name indicates, does his work with 
the sword, always a weapon of great honor. They are 
the Maestros of the profession, and must possess great 
agility, strength, and daring, a quick eye, a clear head, 
and a strong and dexterous wrist. Great skill must also 



3S 



GOING TO JERIORO; OR, 



be possessed by the JZspada, for the bull according to rule 
can only receive his death wound from the front, and 
between the shoulders, and the thrust requires a hair- 
breadth precision to be successful. And it is not without 
reason that these fellows lay claim to the title of Maestro, 
for the Espadas have each their own school of art. Each 
one kills the bull in a way as peculiar to himself as ever 
Mozart composed a symphony, or Raphael painted a 
great picture. 

When a new Espada makes his debut before an 
audience, the dilettanti watch his performances critically, 
and approve or condemn according to his supposed merit. 
If the rising star is the pupil of any well-known artist, 
they give their respective opinions as to whether he is 
about to establish an original school, or whether his man- 
ner is more or less affected by that of his instructor. 

The second class is that of Banderilleros, or flingers of 
barbed darts called Banderillos. Swiftness of foot and 
dexterity is required in this branch of the art, not greatly 
short of that of swordsman. 

The third class is that of Picadores, from the pica, 
or lance, with which they are armed. These latter are 
the horsemen of the bull- fight. They are padded with 
cloth and cotton, to save them from the horns of the 
bull. The business does not rank high, its members 
being rather looked down upon by those occupying the 
higher walks of the profession. 

The fourth rank is occupied by mere attendants, active 
and ambitious fellows, it is true, and tenacious of the 
honor of belonging to a noble calling, yet nevertheless 
not much respected by their more exalted associates, or 
even by the public. They are sometimes stigmatized as 
drunkards. 

Every soul connected with a bull-fight, from the JEs- 
pada, with drawn sword in hand, who is to cover him- 
self with glory by killing the bull, down to the boy who 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



39 



holds the dogs with a string, carries himself jauntily, 
and takes all the airs of an artist, and, while in the arena, 
by every step and every feature, invites attention and 
demands applause. 

No Ernani, or Genaro, or Don Giovanni, ever strutted 
up and down before a silk-robed and jewel-blazing 
audience of music lovers with more lordly grandeur, or 
made his bow with greater affectation of merit, than does 
Metrites, or Romeo, or El Chiclanero stalk, sword and 
flag in hand, about the arena at a bull-fight in Spain. 

The driver of the three mules, who at the end of the 
bloody scene gallops into the arena to drag away the 
lifeless carcasses, takes care to conduct himself in the 
performance of his brief part in such a manner as to 
be repaid, if possible, by the bravos and clappings of the 
ten thousand art critics who are watching with cultivated 
eye every step in the affair, with the laudable determina- 
tion that it shall be performed in accordance with well- 
settled rules. 

The buil-fighter feels himself not degraded, but ex- 
alted, by his profession ; and demands from all classes of 
society a consideration due to his merits and the noble 
character of his calling. Even the Church acknowledges 
the importance of the institution by bringing to the 
door of the amphitheater the last consolations of re- 
ligion. A chapel stands close by the entrance, where the 
artists repair, jnst before the fight begins, to confess 
themselves and receive absolution. 

At one o'clock the General and myself took places in 
an omnibus running through the Calle de Alcala. A 
flaming painted sign, and flag borne upon the top, set 
forth that the vehicle was then en route for the bull- 
fight. 

In a half hour we had crossed the Prado, issued 
out at the city gate, and taken our places at the amphi- 
theater. The bull-ring is without roof or covering, 



40 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



and is simply a modern amphitheater, from which this 
amusement is said to have taken its rise. 

It is even presided over by a dignitary, in whose honor 
the games are pretended to be given, and who affects to 
direct the proceedings in the same manner that Caesar 
presided over and directed the gladiatorial sports in the 
palmy days of Rome. At two o'clock the funcion began 
by what in circus parlance would be termed the " Grand 
Entry." 

The doors to the arena were thrown open, and all the 
performers in the expected drama — swordsmen, horse- 
men, footmen, mule-drivers, and dog-holders, with their 
swords, pikes, nags, horses, mules, and dogs — entered, in 
grand procession, the Espadas leading, and the others 
following in order of rank, and marched around the am- 
phitheater, bowing right and left, and receiving the 
plaudits of the ten thousand admiring spectators. 

The bulls alone were not in this little army of con- 
gratulation. Their absence, however, did not appear to 
be generally observed. Poor creatures ! they were under- 
stood to be in a pen beneath the building, having sharp 
goads thrust into their skins for the purpose of working 
them up to the requisite degree of fury. Having com- 
pleted the circuit of the arena, the procession passed out 
by the gate at which it had entered. Then all who were 
to take part in the fight assumed their places in the 
arena. Four picadores, mounted on horses, with lance 
in rest, trying to look like knight errants, were stationed 
around the arena near the barriers ; a half dozen bande- 
rilleros with flags, at intervals between the horsemen, 
and as many assistants back of these. In the center the 
Espada finally took his place, with all the dignity and 
lordly concern of a Field Marshal of the first Empire. 

As these preparations proceed, showing the early ap- 
proach of the eventful moment, the audience gradual y 
becomes quiet, an 1 looks at the business going on with 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



i 

41 



more attention, while I find myself taking shorter breaths 
and watching the door by which the bulls are expected 
to enter. I had read various accounts, and heard widely 
conflicting statements about the Spanish national amuse- 
ment. From some, that the whole game was a serious 
farce, followed by a tragedy in which the bull was the 
only victim, there being no manner of danger to the men. 
That bulls would not fight, save when driven to the wall 
or bedeviled with dogs, and then only on the defensive. 
But I did not have much time to remain in doubt, for 
while I was gazing anxiously at the door it suddenly 
came open, and with a bound and a roar a red bull, strong 
in the shoulder, long-backed, deep-chested, broad-horned, 
and head and tail high in the air, came bounding into 
the arena like a wild boar. I do not know what bulls 
generally may do, whether they are goaded to fight, or 
fight without being goaded, I know this fellow never so 
much as stopped to count his enemies, not for a single 
moment, but fierce as the grizzly bear in pursuit of a 
flying huntsman, charged down the ring to where a 
mounted picador stood with lance in rest. 

Quick as lightning, he stooped his horns, and before a 
breath could be drawn, horse and rider, lance and flag, 
were lifted bodily over his head and dropped upon the 
sand. And there they lay, for the horse was dead, and 
the rider fast beneath him. 

"Down in front," I hear shouted in Spanish from furious 
throats behind us, for we are new to these scenes, and 
can not resist the desire to rise up in our places from 
sheer excitement. We can not sit still, we can scarcely 
breathe. 

The furious beast only stopped while he could survey 
the field and find other foes to attack. 

In less than two minutes all the horses were stretched 
upon the sand, and every human being, from the chief 
JEspada to the lowest assistant, had either vaulted over 



42 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the barrier, or were perched upon it ready to escape 
when necessary. 

For the first ten minutes no attack is made upon 
the bull, but be is allowed to pursue his furious course 
about the amphitheater, plunging at the horses and ripping 
them up, or charging the men and driving them over the 
wall. All stand upon the defensive. During this time the 
bull appears complete master of the situation. From the 
moment this one bounded into the arena, until he lay dead 
upon the sand, he never ceased to fight save while search- 
ing for an enemy, and one instant always sufficed for that 
purpose, for the bander illero, who jumps over the barrier 
at one side, in ten seconds appears in the ring at the 
opposite, with flag in hand inviting attack. In these 
dashes which the bull makes at his tormentors, the watch- 
ful spectator soon detects a peculiar habit of the animal 
which is his fatal weakness, and the secret of the possibil- 
ity for human creatures to cope with him in combat. The 
flag borne by the bull-fighter is of red cloth, and ten feet 
in length. This is dexterously caught up in the hand, and 
held until the approaching animal is within a certain dis- 
tance, when it is discharged with a twitch directly in his 
path. The bull is deceived by the roll of cloth at his feet 
and stopping short in his career, strikes at it with his 
horns. This moment is a sufficient diversion to enable 
the bull-fighter to escape, and when the bull presses close 
upon a flying enemy a flag is thrown before him by an 
assistant from another quarter, and he invariably stops 
long enough to lose the victory for the moment. From 
the first my sympathies were wholly with the bull, and 
each escape of a matador was an aggravating disappoint- 
ment. I looked upon the flag trick as a wanton deception 
put upon the generous beast. When the flying bande- 
rilleros jumped the fence and escaped with their lives, I 
felt that the fence had been dishonestly made too low, and 
that the rules of the combat should require the wretches 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



43 



to stay in the ring with the bull and fight it squarely out. 
Against the repeated and indignant protests of the ladies 
nnd gentlemen behind me, I constantly stood up in my 
place, or t wisted about with excitement. At each instant 
my friend, the bull, appeared upon the very point of 
catching a rascally banderillero under the ribs and send- 
ing him. over his head, and I held my breath with anxious 
hope, but the poor deceived brute always came a few 
inches short of the delightful triumph, and turning fero- 
ciously to dash at others, allowed the flying wretch to 
escape. But he never asked a favor nor avoided a con- 
test. Whenever an enemy appeared he struck at him ; 
and to the last, when his heart's blood trickled upon the 
sand, he did not turn from the foe. At the end of ten 
minutes the trumpet sounds for the second act, and the 
banderilleros come forward in their turn. Each is armed 
with a barbed dart, two feet in length, in either hand, and 
these must be fixed at one stroke in the neck of the bull 
from the front and over his horns. One at a time they 
stand before the animal, and meet him in full career. He 
comes always with a rush, showing that he means life or 
death, and as he stoops to strike, the agile banderillero 
reaches forward with both arms, passing the barbed darts 
from the front, between the horns and into the thick hide 
of the bull's neck. How he gets away without being dis- 
emboweled is the mystery of his profession, but he does, 
and in an instant the bull is seen prancing and shaking 
his head and neck, with the colored ribbons of the bande- 
rillero flaunting in the air, sure evidence of the success 
of the stroke. A moment is allowed for the artist to 
enjoy the plaudits of the admiring spectators, and then 
another comes forward to exhibit his skill by placing his 
colors beside the first, and so on, each one receiving such 
rew T ard as his success deserves. Sometimes a total or 
partial failure is made, and no dart, or but one dart, is 
fastened in the bull's neck. Then the poor artist is 



44 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



deservedly hissed, and retires with shame from the arenn, 
for the intellectual public of Madrid are not to be lightly 
trifled with. In ten minutes the neck of the beast is 
ornamented with ribbons, of red, of orange, of blue and 
purple, and of party colors. Then, at a signal, the last 
and great crowning act commences. Conversation ceases 
in the seats, the careless become attentive, and all is 
hushed in breathless silence. 

With lordly air and sword in hand, the Espada takes 
his place. He is dressed in Spanish breeches, and jacket 
of crimson velvet and gold. His long black hair is 
gathered in a bunch at the back of his head, such as is 
worn by ladies under the name of a waterfall. That, 
with his smoothly shaven face, imparts to the bull-fighter 
a peculiarly feminine appearance. With step so light 
that he appears to spurn the earth, he advances to the 
center of the arena. Then, turning to the bull, who seems 
to know by instinct that he is at last face to face with 
his mortal foe, the Espada invites the advance. True 
to his career, all through the struggle the bull does not 
hesitate or falter, but rushes upon his enemy with even 
more fury than before. As he comes, the bull-fighter, with 
naked sword glistening in the sun, leans forward to receive 
him. When within five feet, with his left hand he flings 
a red cloth in the bull's face, who, in accordance with the 
habit of his race, drops his head to toss the hateful color. 
Quicker than lightning the bull-killer springs in the face 
of the brute, and stooping forward between the rising 
horns, which appear to be almost entering his body, 
thrusts the sword forward and downward at the back ot 
the bull's neck, and retires flag in hand. The air rings 
with roars of applauses. The bull-fighter walks slowly 
away from the bull, bowing again and again to the 
audience as renewed storms of bravos salute his ears. 
The sword has disappeared, and the flag alone remains 
in his hand, and, greater mystery, the bull, but lately so 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



45 



ferocious, has suddenly become gentle as a spring lamb. 
He stands in the very spot where he stooped to strike at 
the red flag, and in almost the same attitude ; and, though 
his foes in scores walk carelessly about him, he moves 
not to resent the insult. I look sharply for the missing 
sword, and at last find only the hilt. This is resting se- 
curely between the bull's shoulders — the four feet of glit- 
tering steel, avoiding walls of muscle and projecting arches 
of bone, and following some secret path known only to 
the bull-fighter, has gone down between the shoulders and 
is buried deep in the creature's heart. And, even while I 
look, a tremor passes through his frame, and, sinking 
upon his knees, yields the fight. Another blast of the 
trumpet, and an artist of lower degree advances with a 
heavy hunting-knife, and wins his little share of honor 
by finishing the work, driving its point with one down- 
ward blow back of the bull's head and dividing the 
spine. The head drops, and the bull is dead. Now 
comes the muleteer with his team, three abreast, and be- 
decked with ribbons. They gallop in and out, and in 
ten minutes the horses and the bull are artistically re- 
moved, and the arena prepared for the admission of 
another victim. Six bulls in all, and twenty horses, were 
slain that Sunday afternoon ; but, I am almost sorry to 
say, no men. This done, the second act of the funcioii 
commenced. This was a sham bull-fight for the benefit 
of the boys. Eight bulls, similar to those already killed, 
but with their horns padded, were led into the arena, 
one after another, and the boys of M:\drid were let in 
with them to the number of five hundred. This is done 
to develop bull-fighting taste and talent. There was, 
perhaps, scarcely a male spectator resident of Madrid 
present who had not at some time of his life been in the 
ring with a bull. These boys were between the ages of 
eleven and sixteen, and showed a degree of skill in bait- 
ing the bull and keeping out of his way that would have 



46 G 01 N Q TO JERICHO; OR, 



been creditable to the regular espadas or banderilleros. 
They had no arms, not even so much as the red flags ; 
but took off their jackets and flung them in the bull's 
face. Now and then he would catch one of the little 
fellows upon his well-padded horns and toss him high in 
the air, or carry him in his career a hundred feet around 
the ring, but never to the boy's harm, and, when dropped, 
the little fellow would be upon his feet with the agility of 
a cat, and over to the other side to meet the bull as he 
would come racing furiously around the barrier and at 
him again. While this was going on night closed in 
upon the scene. But the boys insisted upon the full 
number of bulls promised to them in the bills, and so, in 
the shadowy evening, we could see a crowd of dark 
bodies rushing from one side of the ring to the other, or 
parting asunder as the bull would dash among his tor- 
mentors. But the audience of ten thousand spectators 
retained their places. They had paid, and obtained the 
right to stay. Cigars are lighted with wax matches, 
which are being struck all around the amphitheater, each 
flashing brightly for a moment, and then going out, while 
others are being lighted, looking like a swarm of fire-flies 
on a summer evening in America. At eight o'clock the 
last bull has been teased by the last boy, and a sound of 
trumpets dismiss the people to their homes. Getting 
into a carriage we pass slowly through the city gate, and 
with the crowd across the Prado, and take our way to 
the Puerta del Sol, 



CHAPTER V. 



THE CALIPHATE OF CORDOVA. 

The country from Madrid to the mountains, called the 
Sierra Morena, is wild and deserted to a degree approach- 
ing portions of New Mexico. That it is thinly populated, 
is but the natural result of the poverty of the soil. No 
trees, no cultivation, and but few habitations relieve the 
everlasting monotony of the country, which has been 
very appropriately called "the eternal plains of La 
Mancha." Occasionally upon the brow of some hill, 
perhaps miles away, we could see a lazy shepherd with 
his long pike, attending, or being attended by — for it is 
hard to tell which — a flock of the beautiful merino sheep 
of the country. We stopped at Argamasilla de Alba, 
but not long enough to visit the village, the very center 
of the scene of Don Quixote's exploits, and where the 
good knight lived and died. All through La Manchn, 
the poor people believe in the actual existence of Don 
Quixote and Sancho Panza. The Venta de Quesada, the 
Puerto Lapiche, and the famous windmills are all pointed 
out at Argamasilla, and their identity fully believed in. 
But this sad and deserted country, for one hundred and 
fifty miles to the Sierra Morena, needs all its romance, and 
all the poetry of the past, to redeem it from the suspicion 
of being a desert waste, unfitted for human abode. The 
railroad had been finished but a short time from Madrid 
through, and we had the good fortune to be among the 
first drawn by the iron horse, over the road so often 



48 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



traversed in romance by the champion of the Lady 
Dulcinea del Toboso and his faithful Squire. 

Twice we were obliged to get out, and walk around 
unfinished bridges over the Guadiana, while the cars were 
pushed over, one at a time. From Argamasilla to Vilches, 
about sixty miles, the railway runs through no less than 
twelve tunnels, varying from 300 to 2,500 feet each. Yet 
it has been accomplished, and that, too, by the Spanish — 
a people laying but little claim to any thing resembling 
American energy. 

But La Mancha is not a fair specimen of Spain, the 
California of Europe. For in a few minutes after leaving 
Vilches itself in the edge of Andalusia, we were whirled 
to the brow of the mountain, and the valleys of the Gua- 
dalquivir were spread out before us. Soon we began to 
pass groves of olive-trees, and hedges of aloes. We were 
in the land of the date, the olive, and the pomegranate. At 
the foot of the mountain, and close to the village of Vilches, 
we were shown the ground where the Christian armies, 
under the kings of Castile, Aragon, and Navarre, had 
routed the Mussulman infidels of Mohammed Nassr. The 
sun shone bright and warm upon the fluttering olive leaves 
close by, while afar off toward the river, bathed in light, 
we could see the tops of the date-trees piercing the air, 
each surmounted by its elegant palm tuft. Well might 
the hostile forces fight for such a prize as Andalusia, the 
Paradise of the Moors. 

At three o'clock we w r ere in Cordova. There are two 
hotels in the town, one the Fonda de Suiza, and the other 
the Fonda de Rizzi, Each had a wagon at the station to 
carry passengers back and forth. We took the Fonda de 
Suiza, and repented it when too late, as possibly we would 
have done had we gone to the Fonda de Rizza. But I 
think it could not have been quite so bad as the one we 
went to. The Fonda de Suiza, is kept by a half Swiss, 
half Italian, who speaks both French and English. I 



SKETCHES 



OF TRAVEL. 



49 



find, as a rale, that it is better to stop with the natives of 
a country. Foreign hotel-keepers in Europe depend upon 
the custom of travelers. The temptation for innkeepers 
to cheat persons with whom they deal for the first and 
last time is great. A Spanish hotel-keeper in Spain, has 
Spanish custom, generally Spanish prices, and occasionally 
a Spanish reputation for honesty to uphold and support. 
He seldom has a stranger in his house, and does not think 
of charging him more than another. The others are apt 
to have a separate price for each guest, dependent upon 
his appearance and the probability of what he will stand. 

But how shall I describe Cordova ! The city that has 
most of all surprised me ; the city, the least European of 
all the cities in Europe. Of great antiquity, it was a 
place of importance in the palmy days of Rome. Caesar 
Augustus built the bridge which to this day spans the 
sparkling waters of the Guadalquivir, and promises to 
cross safely the gentle and sure-footed asses of Cordova 
back and forth any time this thousand years to come. 
But it is to Islam that Cordova owes all her glories. 
When the fiery companions of the prophet had borne the 
Crescent from the Euphrates to the pillars of Hercules, 
they did not weep like Alexander, but courageously turned 
north in search of other worlds to conquer — invited, it is 
said, by a traitorous Christian to the country, they soon 
overran it completely, and here at Cordova the Moorish 
conquerors established their capital. Its history from this 
time, how it grew in wealth and power, until the chief 
seat of the Mohammedan Caliphate was established on the 
banks of the Guadalquivir, where commerce was fostered, 
manufacturers encouraged, and art nursed into life and 
vigor till the schools of Cordova were the Oxfords and 
Yales, its traders and manufacturers, the merchant princes 
and leather lords of the world, is a story too often 
repeated to require more than mention. But how could 
it have been, I asked myself time and again, as I wandered 
3 



50 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



about its deserted streets and ruined palaces and gardens. 
I had heard of all this, and as all do in such cases, had 
formed some idea of what the place was like. Has the 
reader ever seen a picture of the interior of Damascus, 
with its streets just wide enough for two donkeys to meet 
and pass, with its square unornamented dead walls for the 
fronts of the buildings, a cobbler or a merchant sitting at 
his business in a little nook dug out of the side, or against 
the wall, just as a man would sit in a large packing -box 
turned on its side ? Such is Cordova. 

From the railroad station to the hotel, we passed the 
whole distance through streets so narrow that not even 
a man could have passed the little narrow wagon without 
getting into a doorway. In many places the thick walls 
were cut out in a sort of furrow five or six inches deep to 
let the hubs of the wagons pass through. There are not 
three streets in all Cordova, that a man could not traverse 
by stepping from one house-top to the other across them. 
An active man could walk all over town in that way. I 
tried the width of many, and found that by standing in 
the middle, and stretching out my arms, I could reach at 
once each wall with my hands. The streets thus narrow 
are paved with stone, and run in every possible direction, 
up hill and down, right and left, with no more order than 
so many cow-paths. The houses, as originally built by 
the Moors, presented to the street, with the exception of 
the door, an unbroken dead wall. No windows opened 
upon the street. The door was a strong oaken affair, 
covered with iron, and closed the place up like a prison. 
But if the outside was forbidding, it was very different 
with the interior. The whole center fronted upon a court- 
yard, around which were galleries, made light and airy by 
arches and columns of the unique style of the Arabic 
architecture. Here delicious and cooling fountains gur- 
gled and spurted over shells and pebbles, around which 
blossomed the orange, the pomegranate^ and the jasmine. 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



51 



And here, surrounded by the bright-eyed houris of his 
terrestrial paradise, the true believer obtained a foretaste 
of that higher bliss that awaited the faithful after a life 
spent in following the precepts of the Koran. But the 
mighty forces of Christendom rolled back with the re- 
turning tide, and the faith and followers of Mohammed 
were submerged beneath its gathering waves. In 1236, 
after Cordova had been for five hundred years the center 
of Islam's power, wealth, and learning in the West, the 
blessed St. Ferdinand led his invincible hosts within its 
walls, and again placed the triumphant Cross where the 
Crescent had so long defied the Christians of Castile. The 
Moor is gone, but his house has simply changed occu- 
pants. The houses of Cordova are still the houses of the 
Mussulman that has passed away. A few enterprising 
Spaniards have opened windows on the street, but it is 
rarely a house has more than one, and that cut with no 
regard to external appearances, but entirely to suit the 
convenience of the occupant of the room it is intended 
to light. The strong iron-bound door still guards the 
entrance, but it is seldom closed. In fact it was probably 
the same when the Moors occupied the houses. But an 
inner door, set back about fifteen or twenty feet from the 
outer one, and at the inner edge of the front wing of the 
house, is kept locked. This is invariably made of iron lattice 
open work, wrought into fanciful devices, and looking at 
night, when the light, always kept burning in this court, 
shines upon it, like wire lace. This lace door is strong, 
but does not in the least prevent the passengers in the 
street from seeing all that is in the court-yard. And here 
the Cordovan spends all his taste and much of his money. 
The orange and banana trees, and all sorts of handsome 
vines and flowers are trained around the central fountain 
so as to make a tableau as seen through the open work 
door, a perpetual living picture of fruit and flowers. It 
is astonishing how much taste can be displayed in this 



52 



GOIXG TO JERICHO; OR, 



way. I found myself stopping at each door and gazing 
through the frame at the little garden, and often I walked 
in and up to the iron door. What I at first feared would 
be considered rude, I found to be taken rather as a com- 
pliment paid to the taste of the family. 

At night we walked out, it being bright moonlight. 
But in a town built with no regard to the outside world 
there appears to be little temptation to wander forth. 
Our footsteps ringing upon the pavement, and echoing 
against the stone walls, was the only sound that broke 
the perfect stillness. It was unpleasant at times. Both 
strangers, and in a city that was very different from what 
we had expected to find it, and from any that either of 
us had ever seen, I thought of some of the adventures of 
Sinbad the Sailor, and especially of cities that had been 
enchanted, the inhabitants and all living creatures either 
put to sleep till some one should discover a charm for 
waking them, or turned into statues of stone. Occasion- 
ally a man walking alone would turn a sharp corner and 
come into view directly in our path. My heart would 
fly up into my throat. It must be a robber, the sleepless 
ghost of some ill-treated Moor, or, in fact, any thing but 
just what it was, a decent citizen going home from 
business. When this occurred I doubled my fist as the 
stranger approached, and picked out a place under the 
ear where I resolved to hit him upon the slightest dem- 
onstration of a hostile character. But the poor Cor- 
dovan upon seeing us back up against the wall in a sus- 
picious manner appeared generally as badly frightened 
as either of us, and would get by and hurry off along the 
wall as fast as he could. Once, upon seeing us prepared 
for defense, a fellow turned back and hurried off the 
other way, probably taking us for robbers. 

After threading our way for an hour or two through 
the winding and narrow streets, each as silent and ap- 
parently as deserted as the side avenue of a cemetery, 



SKETCHES 



OF TRA TEL. 



53 



we came upon the sound of the guitar. It proceeded 
from the court of a small house just at a cross street. 
We looked in at the door. A woman was playing upon 
one of those short-stringed instruments in use in the 
country, looking much like pictures we see of the ancient 
mandoline. Five or six other women, and two men, 
seated about the room, were keeping time to the music 
by striking together two flat pieces of wood held in the 
palm of each hand. They were evidently respectable 
people; but not of the wealthy class. They invited us 
to enter, which we at first declined; but, upon being 
warmly pressed to do so, consented, and were given 
chairs near the door. Directly one of the women began 
to sing a wild sort of Spanish song. The others all beat 
time by clapping together the pieces of wood or castanets. 
This was followed by dancing. The Spanish dance is as 
different from all other dancing as its music is wild and 
peculiar. But one couple takes the floor at a time. The 
dancing is done by swinging the body and moving the 
arms about the air with more or less grace. The feet are 
used just enough to move slowly about the room, taking 
little short steps in tune with the music. The swaying 
of the body and waving of the arms is all that is thought 
of, and upon the skill or grace with which this is done 
depends the success of the dance. It follows that none 
but tall, graceful girls, can dance well their native Spanish 
dances. In waving the arms about, the castanets are con- 
stantly used, not only by the dancer, but by the lookers- 
on. Most residents of American cities have seen the 
Spanish dance as performed at the theaters. But, except 
in dress and the use of the castanets, the cachucha, and 
the dances generally performed as Spanish, have not the 
least resemblance to this. Here the feet play so little 
part in the dance that they might almost be dispensed 
with. We sat for a half hour greatly amused, and then 
went our way. 



54 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



A short walk brought us to the gate which leads to 
the bridge. Passing through it by the permission of the 
guard, first getting a promise that he would not shut us 
out, we walked out upon this stone memento of Roman 
power. 

Built by A ugustus, it seems, with its broad passage- 
way of forty feet in width, to bridge over the whole gap 
in history, the dark ages and mediaeval fogs that lie be- 
tween this day of steam-engines and industrial greatness 
and that of tramping cohorts and cars of triumph. The 
bridge would have been built no wider and no more sub- 
stantial if built to-day, with unlimited means at com- 
mand. Yet, during fifteen hundred or more years of its 
duration, the laden ass has passed over its spacious sur- 
face, to enter the streets of a great city, feeling his way 
along the center stone to avoid damaging the burden 
against projecting walls. 

At the center of the bridge stands a statue of St. 
Raphael, the patron and protector of Cordova. Passing 
this, we leaned over the parapet and watched the waters 
of the Guadalquivir sparkling in the moonlight as they 
rippled along in their way to the sea. Facing the town, 
we could see on the left of the bridge the walls of the 
Alcazar Gardens, with its four commanding towers, where 
the caliph had walked beneath the pomegranate groves 
and predicted the everlasting duration of his empire. If 
from these walls the commander of the faithful, as is 
claimed by Arabian tradition, could count two hundred 
thousand dwellings, eighty thousand palaces, and nine 
hundred baths, it was but a pardonable vanity to believe 
that no human power could subvert his authority. But 
he is gone, and with him all that was his, ami still the 
old bridge stands firm and strong as the day the Roman 
mason rappsd his trowel upon the last stone. It has out- 
lived Caesar and Alaric ; it has survived whole lines of 
Arabian caliphs with queer names, and may be a good 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



55 



bridge when the Hapsburgs and the Bourbons are no 
more. 

At the end stands the Mosque of Cordova, with its vast 
Moorish tower, from which the muezzin for more than 
five hundred years summoned the pious Mussulmans of 
the city to prayer. Returning from the bridge, it stands 
on the right of the narrow street, while the Aleazir Gar- 
dens and ruined palace occupies the left. The holy zeal 
of its Christian captors has done much to deprive it of its 
peculiar character. But without total demolition it was 
impossible to make it other than a palace of Oriental 
marvels. Such structures can only be described by archi- 
tects to architects. Read the story of Aladdin's palace on 
a summer's evening, and go to sleep. You may dream 
of this, or another as good. One peculiarity about Moor- 
ish architecture is the power of giving vast room and 
producing fine effects, without what would, in all other 
styles, be considered the necessary height. The Mosque 
at Cordova is 540 feet long by 38V feet in breadth. This 
is one of the largest buildings in Europe, and yet it is no 
more than thirty-five feet from the floor to the roof. 

Of the strictly Mohammedan portion, one small room, 
or chapel, nearly circular in form and thirteen feet in 
diameter, alone was spared by the conquerors. It was the 
Mih-rab, or sanctum. In it was kept the pulpit of Al- 
Hakem, the finest in the Moslem world. It was all of 
ivory and precious woods and stones, inlaid and fastened 
with golden nails, and cost one million two hundred and 
fifty thousand dollars. In it was kept the famous copy of 
the Koran, made by Othman and rendered doubly pre- 
cious by being stained with his blood. The pulpit and 
relics are gone, but the jasper columns at the entrance, 
the arabesque work of its rich vaulted roof, and the 
splendid pavement, still remain. It was the custom for 
the faithful to prostrate themselves before the pulpit and 
pass around it upon the knees seven times. The trench 



56 



GOING TO JEEICEO; OR, 



worn in the marble floor and against its stone sides by the 
knees of the zealous, though discontinued for six hundred 
years and more, is not less than four inches deep and 
eighteen inches wide. 

Between the front of the church and the tower, for- 
merly the muezzin but now the belfry, is the Court of 
Oranges. It is simply a garden in which fountains spirt 
clear water, and where the lazy Cordovans sit all day and 
half the night beneath the grove of orange, date, and 
pomegranate trees. 

At eleven o'clock we returned to our hotel. If the 
town was dead at seven when we started out, when we 
returned home it appeared to have been buried. The 
lamps that had shone behind the laced doors, lighting up 
the court, with its background of oranges and palm 
leaves, were extinguished. The thin moonlight strug- 
gling through the narrow opening between the projecting 
roofs overhead enabled us to pick our way. With a hand 
upon each wall and talking in a low tone about Haroun-al- 
Raschid, his Grand Vizier, and their nocturnal prowlings 
about Bagdad, we returned to the Fonda de Luiza. 

In the morning we were up at seven o'clock, and out 
tor a stroll in the Alcazar Gardens. The word Alcazar 
appears to be the name applied in Andalusia to all Moor- 
ish palaces. Each city in which that people formerly 
resided has its Alcazar. That of Cordova is almost 
entirely ruined and gone to decay. The archbishop of 
the province occupies a small portion connected with 
his palace. The corner towers are in tolerable preserva- 
tion, but overgrown with weeds, brambles, and often trees 
of considerable size. The baths, where the bright-eyed 
ladies of the caliph's seraglio were wont to disport in 
the clear water taken from the Guadalquivir, are now 
devoted to the ignoble purpose of raising carp for the 
dainty palates of the epicures of Seville. 

The gardens, which contain more than twenty acres of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



57 



land, and where in Moorish times the earth scorned to 
give life to trees ranking beneath the mellow orange or 
the juicy pomegranate, are now the scene of a constantly 
renewed struggle, often doubtful in its results, between 
noxious weeds on the one hand and vulgar cabbages and 
beets on the other. Yet much that is rich and elegant 
and ancient remains. The Alcazar is an ordinary vege- 
table garden. A stone aqueduct laid in cement as hard 
as marble conducts the water of the river along the wide 
avenue, shaded its whole length by pomegranate-trees. 
All among the radishes and cauliflowers stand orange- 
trees covered with glowing fruit, and lemons, and occasion- 
ally the graceful date, while the walls and donjons are 
almost hidden from view by gigantic fig-trees. Of the 
orange-trees four are shown that stood when the Moors 
still possessed the land, and from which the caliph had 
gathered fruit. 

The owner of the gardens, Senor Perez, told us that only 
last summer a prince from Morocco had visited Cordova, 
the land of his ancestors, and upon seeing the aged orange- 
trees he had embraced them with his arms, sobbing, and 
with tears coursing down his cheeks, lamenting the loss 
of such a Paradise. The young infidel, as I afterward 
learned, on the same occasion went to the cathedral, pros- 
trated himself in the sanctuary of the Mih-rab, and on his 
knees seven times made the circuit, sighing and praying, 
and sobbing like a child. It was Muley Abbas, brother 
of the present Emperor of Morocco. His ancestors had 
created all this splendor, and it was lost. But the devout 
fathers who now possess the Mosque, observed with par- 
donable satisfaction, and related with pious glee, that the 
degenerate barbarian could not read the Cufic inscriptions 
on the walls of the sanctuary. 

Of all the arts that rendered Cordova so famous, not 
one is now carried on within her walls. At Toledo 
sword-making is still continued with considerable skill 
3* 



58 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



and vigor; but the cordwainers of England and America, 
have probably known for many years that the city, which 
by her excellence in the art gave a name to their calling, 
no longer is capable of manufacturing leather worthy of 
being exported and scarcely of being worn. I asked a 
shoemaker in Cordova where the best leather was made. 
He answered, with apparent surprise at my ignorance, 
that no good leather could be made except in France, 
and that it all came from Marseilles. Still a very inferior 
yellow leather is, I believe, manufactured in the vicinity. 
If Captain Miles Standish lived to-day, instead of wear- 
ing boots of Cordovan leather, he would probably walk 
about in Oxford ties and strapped-down gaiters. 

The narrow streets of Cordova will forever prevent the 
introduction of wagons to any considerable extent. There 
are no carriages in use, and I saw but two omnibuses on 
wheels in the place. Donkeys not much larger than dogs 
are the universal carriers. A single line of stone a foot 
wide, laid in the very center of the street, is the pathway 
which these little creatures are taught to follow. This 
prevents them striking the sides of the houses along the 
line of march. These stones are worn down by this con-" 
stant plodding, as if guttered out by design. Just as the 
young Oregonian refuses to walk, but must have his horse, 
so in Cordova the gayest youth mounts his donkey and 
jogs away on his errand, whether it be of love or business. 

The houses of Cordova are all low but well built. The 
Moors seldom built over one story high, even in palaces. 
The whole ground occupied by a Moorish residence was 
inclosed by a stone wall of equal height, and correspond- 
ing exactly with the appearance of the house. In fact, 
all that was presented to the passer in the street was an 
immense wall with but one opening, which was the well- 
guarded door. Against these inside or garden walls 
oranges were trained, and ripened in the warm sun. 

In Cordova no building appears to have been done since 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



5U 



the Moors left. Simple adaptations were all that was 
required for the constantly diminishing population. Each 
man's garden-wall, being twenty- five feet high, so com- 
pletely shuts the family off from observation, that I sus- 
pect habits of seclusion, similar to those of the Moors 
with their harems, must have grown up among their 
successors. The few windows that have been opened 
upon the street are invariably high above the ground, 
quite beyond the possibility of reach or observation, and 
are all railed or cashed in with rod iron, strong and secure 
enough to be so many prison windows. That a continued 
residence in such houses would result in making families 
dread and avoid observation, appears to be inevitable. 

No provision seems to have been made for shops or 
stores in the sense understood by us. But each little 
stand is dug out from the wall. The stores are remote 
from each other, often one whole block possessing but 
one shop. In fact, it appeared to us that instead of trying 
to get together, as in our country, the traders and me- 
chanics avoided each other and sought the most out-of-the- 
way and unfrequented places for the display of their 
wares. But in a town so completely dead as Cordova, I 
might possibly have mistaken for an unfrequented place 
the busiest mart in the city. 

Like all Spanish towns, dead or living, the inevitable 
Plaza de los Toros, or bull amphitheater, is found just 
without the walls. I verily believe that when the popula- 
tion shall be reduced to one solitary Spaniard, he will be 
found on Sunday at the bull-ring, looking at the vacant 
arena. 



CHAPTER VI. 



SEVILLE AND THE GIRALDA.- 

The trip from Cordova to Seville is made in about four 
hours by express train. The road follows the Guadal- 
quivir the whole distance, crossing it to the south side, 
upon which the city is situated, a quarter of an hour before 
entering the city. 

We, by accident, had the company from Madrid down 
of an American gentleman of Philadelphia, traveling with 
two sisters. His deliberate judgment, all the way from 
the capital to Seville, expressed alike in the plains of La 
Mancha, upon the Sierra Morena, and in the valleys of 
Andalusia, was that the country was one yast barren 
waste, a mere desert, unfit for human habitation. He was 
an intelligent, well-informed person. 

The Californians of the party, on the other hand, saw- 
in the whole country a perfect terrestrial paradise, lacking 
nothing but a good government to make it the home of 
the most favored of all the nations of the earth. It Avas 
another California. At every mile of the road, one or 
the other was exclaiming, Here is Napa Valley ; there 
is Santa Cruz, San Jose, or the mountains of the Coast 
Range. If the residents of any of the valleys I have 
named could be set down by supernatural power on the 
banks of the Guadalquivir, he would be some time in 
discovering that he was away from his own home. A 
ruined castle upon the brow of some distant mountain, or 
a skin-clad shepherd hard by, tending his flocks, would 
alone lead to inquiry. The villages are as much like an 



SKETCHES OF TRA VEL. 



01 



old California Mission as mud and straw, and open bell 
towers, with rope-tied creaky bells and white-washed 
walls can make them. The olive-trees at a distance 
would pass for California oaks, and close by for willows. 
The yellow-topped mountains, with golden sides to the 
sun, as innocent of trees as the hills of Alameda, and as 
much like them as one of the Alameda hills is like another, 
would go far to assure the Californian that he was in his 
own valleys. 

All this accounts for the location of particular nation- 
alities in America. 

When the Pennsylvania and Tennessee farmers first 
beheld the fertile prairies of Illinois, they decided them 
to be so much waste space lost to agriculture. If 
trees would not grow, nothing would. It was a bold 
man that first resolved to put the plowshare under the 
turf, now the great agricultural soil of the Northwest. 
No Spanish- American ever doubted the productiveness of 
the California valleys. Yet thousands of good American 
farmers returned to the Atlantic States in 1851 in the 
firm belief that no grain could be grown west of the 
Rocky Mountains. In short, each people is almost sure 
to think that a country differing from their own is an un- 
productive desert. The English colonists came from a 
country of fogs, rains, winter- blasts, and especially from 
a land abounding in forests. They found in New England 
and Virginia such a land as they had left. Had their 
ships been wafted to Mexico or California, they would 
have found no rest. The land to them would have been 
a wilderness — a desert. The Spaniard came to Mexico 
and found a new Spain. As far as the type of soil and 
climate extended, tliey pursued their conquests, and with 
the trees and rains of Oregon they stopped. All beyond 
was an uninhabitable desert. Had Cortez or Pizarro 
entered Massachusetts or Chesapeake Bays, or the river 
of Hudson, they would have sailed speedily away from 



62 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the inhospitable shores back to Spain, where alone men 
could live. 

In a dozen places we recognized fac similes of the hills 
that divide Petaluma from Sonoma Creek, and as frequently 
those that bound the valleys of Napa and Sonoma. Sacra- 
mento river and valley will be another Guadalquivir in 
time. The resemblance is so much as to require but little 
to complete the portrait. Here in Spain there are no 
fences, while on the Sacramento no ruined castles nor 
closely-packed villages add antiquity to the scene. Hedges 
of aloes divide the fields of Spain the one from another. 
The cactus, known as the prickly pear, is also much used 
for hedges. And in this may be traced to its very home 
a custom of the old Californians. The Missions are 
hedged with the same identical Andalusian cactus, brought 
by the pious priests from the south of Spain. 

The abundance of olive-trees all through this country 
is amazing. For hours the train thunders along at a 
twenty-five mile rate through almost uninterrupted groves 
of this useful tree. They are kept trimmed down, so that 
the stock is allowed to be only .about seven feet high. 
An olive-tree in Spain does not cover more ground than 
an apple-tree in America. This is different from their 
treatment at the Missions, where they are permitted to 
grow to the natural height and shape. Between the trees 
grain or grass is cultivated in the proper season. The 
plow used by the Andalusian peasants is that of the 
Basque provinces and Old Castile — a bar of iron fastened 
to a long pole, with a straight stock for a handle. The 
earth produces richly even after being insulted by this 
rude husbandry. 

At two o'clock we were at Seville, described by the 
guide-book as " an ancient city of Spain with a popula- 
tion of one hundred and ten thousand inhabitants, situated 
in an immense plain on the left bank of the Guadalquivir, 
which separates it from the village of Triana." We put 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



63 



np at the Fonda de Madrid, a good Spanish house kept 
by honest men. 

Seville is the jolliest little place in Europe. Full of 
life, bustle, and gayety. Though "the Figaro of the 
opera" is dead and his shop occupied by a carpenter ; and 
Count Almaviva and Rosina, an old toothless couple, feed- 
ing upon posset and telling their rosaries twenty times a 
day — yet Seville is still the Seville of the play. You 
see Rosina's grand-daughter, accompanied by her duenna, 
at every turn of the narrow streets, slipping home from 
church, with a corner of the veil just raised high enough 
to show a black eye, ready always to receive a compli- 
ment or a gilt-edged billet, and with the answer written 
or unwritten prepared in her bosom. You meet twenty 
Figaros in a half-hour's walk, not barbers, but men-of-all- 
work — bull-fighters, in fact, as often as any thing else, but 
dressed in gay Spanish dress, with jaunty velvet hats, 
cocked on the head, and short, dark jackets, tripping 
along and making you think that, if they opened their 
mouths, it would be to carol Largo al factotum, tra la 
la, tra la la. There is nothing slow or monotonous in 
Seville. Everybody walks fast, talks fast, and laughs 
loud and gayly. The streets are narrow — sometimes, in 
fact, narrower than those of Cordova — but it takes the 
inhabitants so much less time to cross them. 

The houses are built with beautiful courts on the 
Moorish plan, where fountains play, and oranges and 
pomegranates and bananas grow, but they are not prisons. 
Instead of one grated window here to be opened as in 
that city, each house has all the windows that can be 
made in its front walls. And as if this was not enough, 
all project at least a foot from the front making a little 
bay, where the ladies sit with their backs to the street, 
pretending to be engaged at some affair that draws their 
attention within ; but nothing passes the house that they 
do not see. A side glance takes in the whole street as far 



64 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



as it extends, and they know who is worth looking at, long 
before the approaching passer thinks he has been observed. 
In that part of the town occupied by the most respectable 
people, the streets are from four and a half to seven feet 
wide. The projecting windows enable people living in 
opposite houses to converse, and, if they desire, often to 
shake hands with each other across the street. The 
houses are generally three stories high, but the second 
floor is the one occupied by the family. How any young 
man could live in the town and not sing under the win- 
dow of his lady-love, I can not see. The whole atmos- 
phere, the houses, the projecting windows not eight feet 
above the ground, nor ten from where a man would 
stand to lean against the opposite house, the eternal sum- 
mer evenings, all suggest the idea of making love in the 
open air. It is certainly no trespass to play or sing on 
the opposite side of the street from the family mansion of 
one's lady-love. A lover could not well get farther 
away. Yet in Seville, at that distance, he can hear the 
faintest whisper from his lady's window. 

The first evening after our arrival we strolled about the 
place till a late hour, but we met no serenading parties. 
If Don Giovanni was abroad, it was not in musical guise 
that he figured for the evening. But we discovered an 
odd custom of courting at the windows of the houses. 
We passed at least a dozen well-dressed cavaliers stand- 
ing at windows and conversing in a low tone through 
the grating. The quarter and the appearance of the 
houses indicated the inmates to be the best people of 
Seville. Bnt the night was pleasant, the moon shone 
brightly and the air was balmy: why should not the 
youths of Seville stand at the window for an hour or two 
and talk to the unseen lady at the iron-bound window of 
the darkened parlor ? 

Seville is the best built of all the towns in Spain. 
While the streets are wonderfully narrow the houses are 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



65 



well preserved, modern in appearance, and painted and 
decorated with great taste. All the houses of any pre- 
tension are built with courts in the Arabian style, and 
separated from the streets by vestibules faced with black 
and white marble. The vestibule is fifteen or twenty 
r'eet deep and leads to tbe court, from which it is separa- 
ted by a door of iron-laced or latticed work, as is the 
case with those at Cordova. In the construction of these 
doors the mechanics exercise all their skill, and some of 
them are marvels of delicacy. In the court is shown the 
taste of the owner in grouping his trees, flowers, and 
fountain so as to show a handsome tableau through the 
door and vestibule. 

The kings of Spain have, in times gone by, been at 
considerable pains in the invention of titles of honor to 
bestow upon certain cities and provinces, as cheap rewards 
for acts of loyalty or devotion. Cuba, it will be remem- 
bered, rejoices in the high sounding title of the " Ever 
loyal and ever faithful Island of Cuba." And by this title it 
must be addressed and referred to in all royal decrees and 
official acts or correspondence. 

So it is with most if not all the principal cities of Spain. 
Each has some special title applied to its name. San 
Sebastian is called, " the very noble and very faithful." 
Madrid rejoices in the same, with the addition of " im- 
perial, crowned, and heroic." When Alphonso the Wise 
was engaged in war with Don Sancho, his son, all his 
towns left him, one by one, leaving only Seville, which 
remained faithful to the last. In gratitude the monarch 
conferred upon her the title of May noble, may leal, may 
heroico y invencible, and added, as a device, a monogram 
of the letters N". O. and D. O., with a skein of silk be- 
tween. The Sevillians call this JEl-JSToclo, but it is said 
to be a corruption of the words no me ha dejado — She 
has not abandoned me. This monogram may be seen on 
all the monuments, walls, gates, and public places of 



66 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



Seville, sometimes cut in stone, again painted on wood or 
worked in silk, wool, or cloth of gold. 

Seville is at the head of ship navigation on the Guadal- 
quivir. Although some distance from the sea, a goodly 
number of ships and steamers lie at its port. The Sevil- 
lian guides claim for it the credit of having been the 
place from which Columbus, Cortez, and Francisco 
Pizarro sailed on their respective adventures ; and I 
should, on their authority, have made the statement, had 
not an intelligent Englishman, resident of Jerez, assured 
me that such was not the case as to Columbus, but that 
he sailed from Mogues, a place some forty miles from 
Seville, and on another river. Those who have more con- 
venient access to books than a traveler by express trains, 
can look the matter up for themselves. Of this I am 
sure, however, that there are no greater liars to be found 
than the rascals who live by showing strangers the sights 
of European cities. And if Seville has no better proof 
of her claim upon Cortez and Pizarro than upon the great 
Admiral, I should doubt if they ever saw the place. 

But if there is doubt about the connection of these 
worthies with Seville, there is another name great in the 
arts, in which she may justly take pride. Here was 
born, reared, and died, the painter Bartolomeo Esteban 
Murillo. The school of Seville, which sprang up with the 
renaissance of art, boasted the names of Juan Sanchez 
de Castro, Francisco Zurbaran, Agustin and Juan del 
Castillo, and finally reached its great glory and culmina- 
ting point in Seville's favorite — the " painter of virgins 
and children." "When Murillo died, the light was 
extinguished, and painting was a lost art in Seville. 
Seville is the second city in Spain, and having been the 
home of Murillo, is entitled to the possession of his works. 
But they are being, by royal decrees, carried away to 
Madrid, one at a time, and will doubtless finally all settle 
there. There are now left but twenty-four in the museum, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



67 



four in a gallery called " La Caridad," two or three in the 
cathedral, and as many in the palace of the Duke de 
Montpensier, the Queen's brother-in-law. What are left, the 
poor Sevillians claim to be the "Maestro's" best works, 
as they would do, no doubt, if they were all gone but 
one. A statue of the painter stands in one of the public 
squares, and is, I believe, the only statue outside of the 
churches in Seville. In fact, Seville lives by Murillo. His 
fame is the breath of her nostrils. His biography is ex- 
posed for sale at every book-stand ; and pictures of him 
and of his pictures are offered for sale by all photogra- 
phers and print-sellers. The house where he lived and 
died vies with the cathedral and Plaza de los Toros for 
public notice and attraction. 

In the way of architecture, Seville boasts of her cathe- 
dral as second to none but that of St. Peter's at Rome. 
It certainly is large and elaborately ornamented, covering 
an immense area, and capable of holding all the people 
Seville will ever be likely to send as regular attendants 
upon services within its sacred walls. If the true test of 
the value of a church be its capacity to accommodate the 
congregation, my judgment is that this establishment is as 
good as it can be. But my knowledge of architecture 
being exceedingly limited, I am constrained to stop my 
criticism of the structure at that point. 

A marble slab in the floor marks the burial-place of 
Ferdinand Columbus, the son of the great discoverer. It 
appears that the son, more fortunate than the father, is 
popularly supposed to have been rich enough to leave a 
large sum of money and a library to the cathedral, and 
thus secure a tomb within its sacred precincts. At the 
foot of the stone are the words : "A Castilla y a Leo?i, 
JVuevo Mtmdo dio Colony 

At one corner of the cathedral stands a bell-tower, 
known in Seville as the Giralcla. This tower is the pride 
of the city. It is supposed to be especially identified 



68 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



with its prosperity and with its misfortunes. Murillo has 
painted a picture of it, supported on either side by one of 
two patron saints of Seville ; and the picture hangs in the 
museum — a patriotic gift from the master to his native 
city. Its name is derived from the Spanish word girar, 
to turn, and comes from a colossal statue of Faith, used as 
a weathercock at the summit. The Giralda is worthy of 
all the pride and praise of its enthusiastic admirers in 
Seville. It was built nine hundred years ago by an 
Arabian caliph for a muezzin tower, from the top of which 
true believers were called to prayer. It is in the square 
Moorish style, and three hundred and fifty feet high. 
From its lofty summit, the city and valley of the Guadal- 
quivir, for fifty miles in every direction, can easily be 
seen. It is ascended by a spiral-inclined plane of brick, 
up which the visitor can mount by an almost impercep- 
tible grade. The Emperor, Charles V., ascended it on 
horseback when he visited it — not a difficult feat if one 
had the horse. I would have gone up on a donkey, if 
permission could have been obtained. 

After the Giralda, the " House of Pilate " is the one 
most visited by strangers. It appears that some centuries 
ago a certain nobleman, the Duke de Alcala, was Spanish 
embassador at Rome, and that during his term he paid a 
visit to the Holy Places in the East. While there he 
took a fancy to build in Seville an exact fac simile of the 
house of Pontius Pilate. This resolution he speedily car- 
ried out, and the building I refer to is the result. It is 
large and fine, having cost in its construction and decora- 
tion an almost fabulous sum of money. The first question 
put to each stranger in the city is, " Have you been to 
the House of Pilate ?" It is in the style of the Moorish 
houses in Seville, having the marble columns and horse- 
shoe arches of that order, and is embellished with the 
arabesque ornaments upon wall and ceiling so common in 
Cordova. The house is kept in precisely the same state 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



69 



that the house of Pilate was in when the Saviour was tried 
and condemned. The court is adorned with busts in 
marble of not less than twenty Roman emperors, com- 
mencing with Caesar Octavius, and including several of 
the Lower Empire. This may appear like an anachronism, 
but that is not my fault. On the right is the room where 
Judas received his thirty pieces of silver, and the very 
table is shown upon which they were counted out. 
Next, the court-room where the trial was had ; and 
above, in a little wire cage, stands a painted representa- 
tion of the cock supposed to have sounded the signal for 
the denial of his Master by Peter. Just without the door 
stands a jasper cross, which marks the end of a path of 
the exact length of that followed by the Redeemer when 
bearing his cross from the tribunal to Mount Calvary. 
The path traverses a considerable part of the city, ending 
at another cross called the Cruz del Campo. The several 
stations — fourteen in all — where occurred the various 
events of the sorrowful march, as recorded in Catholic 
tradition, are all marked by appropriate monuments. 

The Spanish, like the French Government, retains a 
monopoly of the manufacture and sale of tobacco. In 
Paris the Imperial tobacco stores front almost every street 
and boulevard in the capital. In Spain, postage-stamps 
and snuff, stamped paper for legal documents and "fine 
cut," are bought invariably of the same person and over 
the same counter. At Seville, I went to the post-office to 
post a letter. " You can not buy a stamp here," said the 
polite clerk; "you must go to the place where such 
things are kept. Any tobacco shop will furnish you with 
them." I accordingly dropped in at the first shop of that 
description, stamped my letter, and dropped it in a locked 
box kept for the purpose. 

Seville contains the most extensive government tobacco 
factory on the Peninsula. It is an old monastery, most 
extensive in its dimensions, and stands between the palace 



70 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



of the Duke de Montpensier, and the celebrated Alcazar, 
or residence of the Moorish kings of the country. We 
visited the place. The works, like all in Spain, are of 
the most primitive character. No steam is used, but 
mules furnish all the power necessary to propel the rude 
machinery, by which snuff and cigarrito material is reduced 
to the required fineness. The rolling of cigarritos, the 
folding of paper boxes, and putting up of the tobacco 
generally is done by girls. There are employed in the 
establishment at Seville not less than five thousand 
women, besides one thousand men. We passed hastily 
through the snuff department and chopping works, to the 
room where the women were putting up the tobacco, as 
that is thought to be the most interesting. The rooms 
are about six in number, and take up each the whole floor 
of a wing of this extensive building. We expected to 
find the operators seated at tables, well dressed, and look- 
ing orderly and neat, as would be the case in such an 
establishment in America, were one in operation ; but 
upon opening the door, our ears were saluted by a perfect 
babel of discordant sounds, the predominant one of which 
was the squalling of babies. 

The first room contained, we were told, one thousand 
operatives. We thought there must be more, judging 
from the number of infants, and could account for the 
apparent discrepancy only by assuming each to be the 
mother of twins. The last floor was crowded to its utmost 
possible limit by women and children of all ages, from 
infants in arms to those of eight years old. A majority 
of the women upon the floor were young, mostly under 
twenty years old. There they sat working away for dear 
life. The baby generally laid in the mother's lap, who 
gave it a swinging motion with her knees, while she 
rolled the paper around the tobacco as rapidly as possible. 
The larger children were either standing by the mother or 
about the room, as no playing appeared to be allowed 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



71 



by the authorities. As we passed through the long 
central passage, almost every hand was extended and a 
supplication made for alms. The poor creatures get but 
about twenty cents per day for the hardest day's labor. 
All begged, almost without exception — the young and 
pretty with a smile intended to be winning, the old with 
the habitual look of sorrow and distress so naturally 
assumed by all the poor of this country, when the role of 
mendicant is to be enacted, either temporarily or other- 
wise. It was almost impossible to refuse the petition of 
the poor women. Their necessities were patent ; badly 
dressed and with children in rags, they could not be other- 
wise than in want. We soon gave away all the small 
coin we had and still felt like giving more. 

They come to their work at six o'clock in the morning, 
and work without leaving the room until eight at night. 
Then they are searched, the women by a person of their 
own sex employed for that purpose, and the men by the 
male overseers, and sent home. The Spanish Government 
has no idea of the poor girls being worthy to be trusted 
with such treasures as tobacco, snulf, or cigars. The filch- 
ing of a cigarette, or a paper of snuff, can be guarded 
against in no way but by a careful and complete exami- 
nation of the person of each employee before they are 
permitted to depart. Yet the majority of these women, 
though obviously poor, are as bright, and as intelligent - 
looking, and as pretty, as any we saw in Spain. There 
are five thousand of them glad to work from morning till 
night, with their babies in their arms, for less than enough 
to purchase the barest necessities of life. The position 
of a convict in an American state prison is so vastly 
better than that occupied by these women of Seville, that 
it seems a charity to wish them safely located in that 
happy place. 

It is such scenes as these that makes the American 
thank Providence for the inestimable boon of his nation- 



72 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



ality. There are five thousand women in San Francisco, 
happy wives and mothers, with children that come home 
from public school five days in a week to find a table 
spread with food known only to the rich in Europe, who 
owe the whole difference in their condition to having been 
"born in America, and residing in San Francisco instead 
of Seville. If they were here, they would be as likely as 
not toiling in the tobacco house at twenty cents per day, 
with their half-starved children on their knees. It is a 
good thing for those that labor to be in our favored land, 
and they should never forget to be thankful for it. If 
there is any woman with an income under five thousand 
dollars a year, who has not thanked God within the last 
twenty-four hours for being an American, let her do so 
now on bended knees, and keep it up the balance of her 
natural life. 



CHAPTER VII. 



THE SHEER Y OF KEXXETH MACKENZIE & CO. 

Shortly after leaving Seville the railway quits the 
banks of the Guadalquivir, and crosses a high, open 
country, planted with olives, and gradually approaches 
the neighboring river, Guadaleta. We were at the sta- 
tion promptly at the time, and left at seven o'clock. For 
a half hour after leaving we leaned out of the car window, 
against all rule and prudence, to get a last look at the 
Giralda of Seville, the pride of the city and the admira- 
tion of strangers. Again and again, after many times 
bidding it adieu, its graceful form and exquisite tracing 
would break upon our view from behind some hill or 
olive grove, like an old friend obliged but regretting to 
part with us finally. 

In four hours we were landed at Jerez de la Frontera, 
a flourishing town of 35,000 inhabitants, situated near to 
the Guadaleta. It had, until the evening before we left 
Seville, been our intention to proceed directly to Cadiz. 
In fact, the idea of stopping at Jerez de la Frontera was 
as remote from our thoughts as that of visiting: Timbuc- 
too. But on the night previous to our departure we 
were sitting at the table cVhote of the Fonda de Madrid, 
in Seville. There is but little foreign travel through 
Spain, and consequently strangers can indulge freely in 
conversation with a comparative certainty of not being 
understood. This graceful privilege we were enjoying 



74 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



v to a reasonable extent on the evening in question. In 
short, we were discussing European nations generally, 
and the Spanish Government and peopie especially, in a 
rather comprehensive manner. This in the American 
language. 

Directly opposite to us sat a stoutish, round-faced gen- 
tleman, with strong side- whiskers, heavy eyebrows, like 
mixed tufts of hair and wool, shading a pair of full blue 
eyes that, when they looked at us at all, looked squarely 
and steadily without flinching. He did not resemble 
any Spaniard that ever I had seen, and as for being a 
Frenchman, the thing was evidently impossible. His eye 
was entirely too steady and clear for that. He soon, 
however, put the matter at rest by politely addressing us 
in English. He was a Briton certainly, and a Scotchman 
probably. Either was enough for me. I had been carry- 
ing on a species of irregular warfare against that nation ever 
since the Trent affair. My operations had become more 
active from time to time, as that perfidious people had 
taken part against us more and more decidedly, until the 
Shenandoah depredations in the North Pacific had driven 
me to consider that nothing short of their entire annihilation 
could heal our wounded honor or work retributive justice 
upon the British, our natural and everlasting enemies. It 
is true that from my isolated position in California I had 
as yet been unable to meet with the British Government, 
or, in fact, any responsible subject of that realm, upon 
whom to pour the vials of my wrath. And I had worked 
myself, to a certain extent, into the idea that somehow 
they owed their continued existence as a nation to their 
success in keeping out of my reach. But at last, here 
was a chance. I had already been four months in Europe, 
and had not met with a single Englishman upon whom to 
avenge a nation's wrongs. 

We soon were at it in good earnest. He led off by 
hinting at the danger of a fresh civil war in America, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



75 



growing out of the heated political contest between the 
President and Congress. I countered by broadly char- 
ging the absolute certainty of a bloody revolution in En- 
gland, the first steps of which had commenced at Hyde 
Park on the Reform question. The Britisher, with true 
national pluck, countered at this, and came back manfully 
with a charge of cruelty in the continued imprisonment 
of Jeff. Davis. This was fortunate for me. I caught him 
in chancery and held him, while I battered him with the 
Indian executions and Jamaica massacres. This was the 
severest punishment he took during the contest, and car- 
ried him to grass. I did not allow him much time to 
breathe, but peppered him with Irish church rates, opium 
wars, Jewish disabilities, and such miscellaneous projec- 
tiles as came within reach, until he began to fight wild, 
and finally threw up the sponge by pulling out his watch, 
and saying that he must hasten to meet the train bound 
for Jerez de la Frontera, where he resided. 

But while evidently terribly damaged, to use nautical 
terms, both above and below decks, with most of his 
standing and running rigging carried away, his turrets 
battered, and his sides badly stove by my Dahlgrens, and 
his Armstrongs all falling short, while I, on the other 
hand, was apparently as fresh as when the fight began, 
yet the gallant old buffer, barely afloat and no more, 
pulled out his card, and invited myself and the General 
to renew the contest on the following day, at his estab- 
lishment at Jerez, and over a bottle of Amontillado, to be 
furnished by himself. The time was of his own choosing ; 
the place, his domain ; the weapons, his. It was to meet 
him at his home and on his own ground. But by this 
time it had become evident that my adversary was a 
Scotchman, and the memory of the Glasgow blockade- 
runners decided me. We consented to the meeting. At 
seven o'clock we were following a spindle-shanked Spanish 
boy, laden with our carpet-bags, into the counting-house 



76 GOIXG TO JERICHO; OR, 



of Kenneth McKenzie & Co., wine-merchants, Jerez de 
la Frontera. 

Jerez, sometimes spelled Xeres, is the great entrepot 
and central magazine of the wine which takes the name 
of the town, and which has been corrupted by the En- 
glish into the common word "sherry." It is a wine 
that has earned its reputation by centuries of good con- 
duct. The wine of Falstaff^ though called ; ' sack," was 
only sherry, and time has been witness to the correct 
taste of the Fat Knight. There are in Jerez about 
twenty-five merchants engaged in the shipping of this 
wine. The bodega or cellar of each is a building so spa- 
cious that they make the best, and, in point of architec- 
ture, the most imposing part of the town. The office of 
my adversary is situated in one of these immense 
" bodegas," is twenty feet square, and its walls occupied 
with shelves for vials containing samples of wines. We 
found Mr. McKenzie in his office, with an elegant cut- 
glass goblet in his hand half full of that liquid. After 
shaking us cordially by the hand, and bidding us wel- 
come, he remarked: "I am tasting, a business that I 
have to devote a good bit of time to." He was, in fact, 
engaged in classifying sherry. 

To be able to assort wine at Jerez is an accomplish- 
ment of a most valuable character, and requiring years 
to attain. A few persons possessing unusually fine 
smelling perceptions, have been successful after a train- 
ing of two years. But generally to sample wines skill- 
fully and safely requires six or seven years' experience. 
As for myself I never have been able to get beyond the 
point of distinguishing what is called cooking sherry, 
bought at fifty cents a bottle at the nearest corner gro- 
cery, from fine old Duff Gordon kept for company. In 
fact, my taste is essentially vulgar, generally preferring 
lager to champagne. But the General is a very different 
sort of person. Having laid the foundations of his ap- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 77 



preciation of wine deep and broad during the halcyon 
days of a bright and sunny youth spent in Yreka, busi- 
ness and pleasure enabled him to develop and improve 
his taste by frequent opportunities of stamping the vari- 
ous productions of the Dead-falls between that city and 
Shasta, extending, occasionally, down the stage route as 
far as Sacramento. In his mature years, and while his 
judgment was, to a certain extent, still crude and un- 
finished, he was called to San Francisco, where he gradu- 
ated at the schools of Frank and the Bank Exchange. 

Had I presented myself at the bodega of Mr. McKen- 
zie alone, all Briton and therefore natural enemy as he 
was, my conscience would not have permitted me to have 
gone beyond drinking a half bottle of his liquor ; for it 
is at least the duty of the guest to be able to enjoy the 
good things gratuitously set before him. But in present- 
ing my friend, the General, to the wine merchant as one 
capable of not only drinking but understanding his 
goods, I felt that I had done all that an honorable foe- 
man could expect under the rules of civilized warfare. 
Filling the sample glass about two-thirds full from one 
of thirty or forty bottles, evidently just brought in for 
that purpose, our host presented it to the General. Try 
that, he saidr- That gentleman, made bold by his well- 
established knowledge of wines in California, admitted as 
he is to be a thorough judge, took the glass in his hand, 
and throwing up his arm and jerking back his head threw 
himself outside of the liquor in a twinkling. " By jingo, 
that's bully !" he said, without hesitation. I could see 
in a moment that our host was disconcerted. He had, as 
is customary at Jerez, commenced with his poorest wine, 
and here was a taster using already the strongest terms 
of encomium. At this rate what would be left unsaid 
when the old wine should be reached? I saw the mis- 
take and determined to avoid it. 

Not belonging to the Pacific Club, of course my knowl- 



78 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



edge of all the higher accomplishments, among which 
wine-sampling stands unsurpassed, is naturally limited. 
Every art has its own peculiar language, and its profes- 
sors their signs, motions, and grips. I had often with 
pleasure observed experienced wine-tasters go through 
the solemn ceremony of tasting wine, when their judg- 
ment was required, and knew pretty well how it was 
done. There are many fine connoisseurs of wine in Cali- 
fornia besides the members of the club above named. 
Any one who will take the trouble to drop into the 
various sample rooms of San Francisco will become 
satisfied of the fact. The old Land Commission has 
passed away, but its members were high up iu the mys- 
tery. The Supreme Court has possessed and still pos- 
sesses very expert judges of old and fine wines. Of 
course, not one of them ever heard of any drink other 
than wines of vintages dating in the sixteenth century. 
It is a rare treat to see one of them sample wine. 

I determined, since the General had so signally failed, 
to myself make an effort to redeem the credit of my 
country. He should not underrate our knowledge by 
judging our ignorance of the mechanical portions of the 
art. I took the wine-glass, passed full to me by our host, 
by the extreme edge of the bottom rim, holding it 
securely, but apparently in a careless manner, in a position 
to cause the liquor to almost run over the edge. Then 
raising it up to the light, I dropped the lid of my left eye 
slowly to about a half shut, at the same time contracting 
the pupil of the right and gently agitating the brows. 
Having pretended to contemplate the liquid through the 
glass for about fifteen seconds, I brought it down with a 
graceful curve to my nose and affected to smell it for a 
moment, meanwhile swinging it with a pendulum-like 
motion beneath my nostrils. To this entire part or stage 
of the sampling, I gave about, as near as I could estimate, 
twenty-eight seconds. I have seen a judge of the Cali- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



TO 



fornia Supreme Court consume thirty up to the point of 
smelling a glass of Chablis, but it was my first attempt, 
and I was a little nervous. But I could see that I was 
producing the desired effect. The worthy Briton was 
already looking at me anxiously. He saw that I was a 
judge of wine, and of course my opinion was important. 
But without in the least indicating a judgment, I con- 
tinued by opening my mouth just far enough to show the 
edge of my tongue. This member I managed in such a 
manner as to enable me to adroitly place about one and. a 
quarter drops of the precious liquid on the little basin by 
curling up the edges. Holding it thus for thirteen seconds, 
keeping the eyes about half shut, or, when open, rolling 
them from side to side, I closed my mouth with a delicate 
and appreciative smack, and again repeated the movement 
of holding the glass to the light. This time, however, 
not only inclining it so that the liquor approached the 
edge, but actually agitating the glass sufficiently to spill 
a few drops upon the ground, a movement that I had just 
seen our host perform. And here I will say to my friends 
in California, that this last trick of carelessly spilling a 
few drops when tasting, is in Europe considered quite 
elegant, and would recommend them to try it the next 
time they get a drink under the pretence of purchasing wine 
at the Bank Exchange. This hint will, I am well aware, 
at first entail the loss of much wine at the rooms of the 
Pacific Club, but the thing is so neat I must mention it. 
^Vhen Mr. McKenzie did this, I affected of course to have 
been always in the habit of doing so ; but the General, 
with all the natural simplicity and freshness of a character 
formed in the northern mines, asked him why he spilled 
the wine when shaking it up. " They say here it is lucky 
to spill a little on the earth," McKenzie replied in his 
quiet way ; " but I always tell them that it is more lucky 
to put it back in the butt." The amount he spilled was 
very trifling, often not exceeding two or three drops. In 



80 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



fact, to execute the movement with gentlemanly elegance, 
not above four drops at the utmost should be spilled. 
To throw one more would indicate a coarse and rude 
profusion, savoring of the common drinker. Our host 
was evidently staggered at my knowledge of wine. I 
had taken the precaution to assure him in advance that I 
knew but little of it ; but he saw that this was merely a 
blind. He became alarmed for the reputation of the 
establishment, and remarking, "Ah! I see how it is; 
you would like something a little better," turned to look 
for it. As soon as he slipped away, I swallowed the 
balance of the wine in my hand all at a gulp, and passed 
the empty glass to the General, who stood holding it 
when the wine merchant returned with another bottle. 
Exchanging with me smiles of pity for our friend who 
could greedily drink of wine of such indifferent quality 
(it proved to have been less than forty years old), he filled 
me another glass. Again I went through the old ceremony, 
throwing more unction into my manner, more solemnity 
into my looks, and generally imitating more closely the 
California model wine-tasters I have named. But still 
no word of censure or praise escaped me. It is one of 
the first rules to be followed in wine-tasting — never to 
express an opinion of any sort till you have drank all you 
want. That point reached, there are certain generalities 
that may be used, such as " a little more body," " older 
vintage," " fruity," " nutty," and the like, but it is better, 
and produces more effect, and is generally better under- 
stood, to do the whole by looks and motions. Meanwhile, 
the General was loud and profuse in his encomiums of the 
wine. Splendid, beautiful, magnificent, were words con- 
stantly proceeding from his mouth. 

It is the custom of Jerez wine-merchants to commence 
showing the poorest wines. But the fact is that there is 
but little poor wine kept by first-class houses. McKenzie 
& Co. stand the fifth in class as to quantity of shipments 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



SI 



out of the twenty-five shippers of Jerez. This he told 
us in his unaffected way, making no pretence of being 
more than he really was. His place was so enormous 
that one could have readily believed his establishment the 
first. There are about 50,000 butts of wine shipped 
annually from the sherry districts to all parts of the world. 
It does not all go to California, as one would naturally 
suppose from the amount consumed there. Mr. McKen- 
zie assured me that a portion of the wine is used in other 
parts of the world ; in fact, that some is sent to London. 
But inasmuch as the amount consumed in San Francisco 
rather exceeds the whole amount shipped from Jerez, I sus- 
pect the London shipments must be of an inferior quality, 
it not pure imitations. But these are doubts which the 
wine-drinking reader may, if he pleases, settle for himself. 
A butt holds about 100 gallons, making 5,000,000 gallons 
per year, as all the genuine sherry wine the world gets 
down its throat. Of this 30,000 butts go from Jerez, and 
20,000 from Puerta de la Santa Maria, on the Bay of 
Cadiz, a place a few miles away. A list of the shipments 
shows that Gonzalez and Byass of Jerez ship 4,500 ; 
Manuel Misa, 3,091; P. Garvey, 2,938; Cossens & Co., 
2,446; and Kenneth McKenzie, 2,103 butts. The others 
decrease down to even less than 200 butts of wine. 
Puerto de la Santa Maria, or Port St. Mary's, has about 
twenty principal shippers, of whom Widow X. Harmony 
& Co. ship 1,900 and Duff Gordon & Co. 1,674 butts per 
an nam. 

We were shown through but one of the three bodegas 
of McKenzie & Co. This was a vast open building 
without floor. A simple roof resting upon stone sides 
and supported by pillars. The wine, to the amount of 
1,500 butts in this place, was stored along in tiers, one 
butt upon another, four or five tiers high. The top row 
ripens the quickest, he told us. In fact, like Bourbon 
whisky, which is improved by the sun, sherry wine should 
4* 



82 



GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



be kept out of cold and damp cellars and put up in the 
warm air. 

The grapes from which the wine is produced grow in 
the immediate neighborhood of Lenz, and between the 
rivers Guadalquivir and Gaudaleta. The district contains 
eighty thousand acres of land. The grapes are of many 
different varieties, mostly white, but many dark, and some 
of mixed colors. They are sorted with great care and 
laid on reed mats, where the sun dries them. It is 
important to have them picked at a particular stage of 
ripeness. They are left on the mats eight or ten days. 
After this they are first tramped under foot and then 
squeezed in a press. The juice is then put in boxes and 
allowed to ferment. This is completed in from six weeks 
to two months, and then the wine is racked off and put into 
butts, where it is kept four or five years, when it is old 
enough for exportation. When about to reach this age of 
maturity it is clarified, which is done by dissolving a fatty 
substance in the whites of eggs, at the ratio of twenty 
eggs to the butt, and pouring it into the wine. This, 
after being allowed to stand till it settles, is again racked 
off into another butt. When this is done there is but one 
more operation to perform before selling or exporting the 
wine. 

Each firm of wine merchants possess a certain quantity 
of old sherry, that is really the most important part of 
their stocks in trade. It is prized as a Dutchman in olden 
times prized rare tulip bulbs. It is called Madre Vino, 
or Mother Wine, and is as near perfection as to age, 
quality, and flavor as the skill and capital of the merchant 
can make it. The tone and character of ih\ sherry to be 
sold is imparted to it by the addition of a greater or less 
quantity of the old wine. No sherry merchant will sell 
this wine at any price, for he can not replace it. This 
wine is the product of occasional extraordinary vintages 
that occur at intervals of several years. When one of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



S3 



these years occur, the "Mother Wine" butts are replen- 
ished ; but, of course, leaving as much of the old wine 
as possible. 

As we passed through the vast bodega, tasting the 
wines, our host kept telling us " drink this if you like it, 
but I have one butt that I shall ask you to drink from as 
a favor to me, so reserve a place for something which I 
consider very good." At last we reached it, and with 
great care he served us each a glass. " Be sure and drink 
it all," he said, "It will do you good; it is good wine 
and a hundred years old." I thought it a pity to drink 
such wine, when to me it was no better than the other I 
had been drinking all through the bodega up to this point. 
It was' all good enough for my taste, and here was wine 
a hundred years old. There was no sense in drinking, 
except for the mere idea of doing so. It had lain there in 
the half-rotten butt all the time that Napoleon had been 
making himself master of half the world, and while he 
was losing it again. When the half-naked Spaniards 
were treading the grapes, George Washington was 
cultivating his farm in Virginia, content with the laurels 
gained in saving a portion of Braddock's companions 
from being scalped by savages in the wild forests sur- 
rounding Pittsburg. I omitted the tricks of the sampler 
while drinking this wine, but supped it with reverential 
awe, and at the end pronounced it good. " It is not bad," 
he said. w I bought it many years ago of an old Spaniard, 
whose grandfather put it up." "What is the price?" I 
inquired. " Oh, bless you, we don't sell it. It's a mere 
fancy to keep a little of such wine, just to show to 
people." 

After doing full reverence to the old sherry, we passed 
on to his sweet wines. The dry sherry is the wine one 
generally gets in America, and is especially popular with 
the English. The sweet sherries are not much used in 
our country, or at least not to my knowledge. There are 



84 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



three sorts of sweet sherry, Paj arete, Muscatel, and Pedro- 
Jimenez. The Pajarete is made from the Pedro-Jimenez 
grapes, which are sweeter than the ordinary sherry grapes 
and are left exposed to the sun twelve days, thus becom- 
ing almost like raisins. It is but little different from the 
Pedro-Jimenez. The last-named wine, used rather as a 
liqueur, is known to some extent in America, and requires 
no description. Of the dry sherries there are two varie- 
ties. First, the "pale" (Jerez Claro), sometimes called 
amber, and the brown or golden {Jerez Oscuro). The 
former is generally new, raw wine, from four to five years 
old. The latter owes its rich color to age. Second, the 
Jerez Amontillado, a wine much talked of in America, but 
I suspect seldom seen. It is made from grapes grown not 
in the sherry district, but at Montilla, near Cordova. It 
is also drier than the other, and celebrated for its almond 
flavor. 

The most remarkable thing that I observed in these 
fine wines was the marked flavor of hickory nuts which 
they possessed. The Amontillado sherry is so unlike any 
other, that few American drinkers at first would think it 
sherry, or, in fact, like the wine. It is as unlike the or- 
dinary sherry as the ordinary sherry is unlike hock. It 
is of a pale straw color, and has none of that rich golden 
brown so much admired in other dry sherries. The bar- 
rels of Mr. McKenzie are all made in the cooperage ad- 
joining the bodega. The timber is brought from New 
York and the hoop iron from England. Only a small 
part of the wine of any wine establishment in Jerez is 
made by the proprietors. But McKenzie & Co. do make 
some wine from grapes bought in the vicinity. The ex- 
portation of wine from Jerfcz and Port St. Mary's has 
more than doubled within the Inst twenty years. Age 
darkens the color of sweet sherries, and lightens that of 
dry. 

We saw no wine at the bodega of McKenzie & Co. at 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



85 



a price under £60 the butt on the premises. This is about 
equal to $3 a gallon in Jerez. From that we were shown 
wines ranging up to about £90, equal to $4.50, which is 
an average price for No. 1 sherry. We were also shown 
some at £250 a butt or $12 50 a gallon, but this runs the 
sherry up to what Mr. McKenzie acknowledged to be 
rather a fanciful value than otherwise, as the cheaper sher- 
ries were just as good, except, perhaps, a trifling difference 
to be estimated only by the finest judges. 

At three o'clock the whistle of the train for Cadiz 
warned us that this most delightful visit to an honest and 
courteous gentleman must be brought to a close. We 
therefore shook hands with our late enemy, slipped a 
bottle of Pedro-Jimenez into our pockets, that had been 
forced upon us, to take to our wives, and hastened away. 
Farewell, honest Briton ! long may you dwell in Jerez. 
May you live to empty the oldest butt of the oldest wine 
in your bodega, is the prayer of the traveler. The gener- 
ous train of mind in which we were placed by the sherry 
did not leave us at the bodega, but lasted all down the 
street to the train. 

Four needy-looking old women received alms of the 
gay and festive strangers to the amount of as many cop- 
pers. Who cares for expense? said we. The ragged 
boy who had carried our shawls was surprised at receiv- 
ing two pesitoes, when as many reals would have satisfied 
him. This, and our hilarity of manner generally as we 
worked our way down the street, convinced the youthful 
descendant of the Hidalgoes that we were two crazy 
fellows at large by accident. So he demanded an addi- 
tional pistareen of us. The whole thing appeared to our 
be-sherried minds so excessively funny that we paid the 
boy the sum demanded, and left him probably much dis- 
gusted at not having asked for more. Thus it is that one 
generous action produces others. The wine of McKenzie 
& Co. was going about Jerez, giving Spanish coppers 



86 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



to poor women, and pistareens to ragged but ingenious 
boys. 

A ride of a half hour in the train brought us to Puerta 
de Santa Maria, the other shipping point for sherry wine. 
This place is opposite to Cadiz, and across the bay of 
that name. Although Cadiz can be plainly seen, and in 
a straight line is not more than eight miles distant, yet it 
takes more than an hour for the train to make the circuit 
of the long tongue or strip of land that leads to the city. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



FROM CADIZ TO THE ALHAMBRA. 

In Cadiz we put up at the Fonda de Cadiz, on the 
Plaza de la Constitution, it being the only first-class 
house in the place not kept by French landlords. Cadiz 
is simply a seaport, and the most important one in Spain. 
But all seaports are alike, and when one is described, all 
may be understood. It has a handsome cathedral, finished 
within the last two years, after a protracted construction 
running through two hundred and sixty years. The 
town is strongly fortified, and is inclosed by solid walls 
thirty feet in height and the same in thickness. The 
streets differ from those of all other towns we have seen 
in Spain. They are straight and cross each other at right 
angles. 

The only attraction in the way of art at Cadiz, is a 
picture by Murillo at the convent of the Capucines. The 
subject is the marriage of St. Catharine, and is in the 
very best style of the great artist. Besides, it possesses 
the melancholy interest of having been the last picture 
painted by Murillo. It was painted in its present place 
over the altar of the chapel, the artist standing upon a 
wooden scaffold for that purpose. When nearly finished, 
the painter, then in his sixty-fourth year, fell from the 
scaffold and received injuries that caused his death a few 
days after. He was at his own request, removed to 
Seville, to die in his native city. The picture was, at his 
desire, finished by Meneses Osorio. A faint downward 



88 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



line near the bottom is pointed out as the last stroke of 
the immortal brush. Every town in Spain possessing a 
work of Murillo, claims it as his masterpiece. This is no 
exception to the rule, and we were solemnly assured that 
no other work could compare with the Marriage of St. 
Catharine. 

After spending one day and two nights in Cadiz, a time 
too long to stay in such a place, unless obliged to do so, 
we embarked for Malaga. Having arranged over night 
with a boatman to take us on board, for in Spain a wharf 
is unknown, we retired to rest. Two hours before day- 
light we were aroused, and, without breakfast, followed 
the boatman and a boy loaded with our carpet-bags down 
to the stairs. A pull of half an hour brought us to the 
side of the Ebro, a fine little Clyde-built screw steamer, 
that was to bear us on our voyage. All the officers and 
men, cooks and waiters, were Spanish, except the en- 
gineers alone. These, as in all Spanish steamers, were 
English. No English was spoken except certain words 
peculiar to steam navigation. It was strange, but pleasant, 
to hear the thin-bodied Spaniards shouting out, " stop 
her," "ease her," "slow back," and all the commands 
known in our own language — English is the language of 
the sea. 

By eight o'clock we were steaming out of Cadiz har- 
bor into the Atlantic Ocean. The city is built upon an 
island, connected however at low water with the main 
land, by a low sand spit five or six miles long. The 
island is too small for the town. It is built over solid- 
ly with five-story houses. In the center, the grand 
cathedral rises above all, with its two lofty Corinthian 
towers. The effect from the sea is that of a city rising 
from the waves, and as you sail away, the houses appear 
to bodily sink back into the elements from which they 
came. 

We were told by our Spanish guide, Pedro by name, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 89 



that the present place is not Cadiz, but the site of a small 
fishing-village near to where the ancient city stood. That 
many centuries ago Cadiz was submerged in the ocean by 
an earthquake, since which time the present place had 
grown up and taken away unjustly the name of the lost 
city. " By going in a boat three leagues southwest of 
the wall and throwing good oil of olives upon the water, 
Senors," said the guide, " you may this day see the tow- 
ers of the churches, and even the tops of the houses far 
down in the water, just as they stood thousands of years 
ago upon solid land. I have often seen it myself," he 
continued, upon seeing us smile, " and will row you to 
the spot." " Have you ever taken any one there, Pedro ?" 
" No, Senors, I have not, for the simple reason that none 
would accompany me. We always put olive oil upon the 
water when we wish to see the bottom. It is/ very 
simple." If the story of Pedro be true, we passed 
directly over the true Cadiz in sailing from the counter- 
feit one. And as we gazed back at the white walls and 
lofty cathedral turrets sinking slowly into the bosom of 
the sea, we could almost imagine it in the act of joining 
its predecessor. 

Two hours' sail brought us abreast of Cape Trafalgar, 
the scene of the last great crowning triumph and death 
of Lord Nelson. The bay where the battle was fought 
is a mere recess in the shore line. There is a lighthouse 
on the point. Long before reaching Cape Trafalgar, the 
mountains of the African coast began to show their dim 
outline, and another hour brought us in view of Tarifa, 
the first town on the Spanish side of the Straits of Gib- 
raltar. Directly opposite is the Moorish village of Tan- 
gier, but hidden from view by a spur of the lofty shore- 
mountain that comes up to the straits almost like a wall. 

The run through the '* gut," as it is called by sailors, 
took about three and a half hours. Although the passage 
is from twelve to fourteen miles wide, yet so high are the 



90 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



bills on either side that the whole line is as distinctly 
marked as the Golden Gate of San Francisco. And the 
resemblance does not stop here. The mountains, like all 
the bills and valleys of Spain, are Californian in appear- 
ance. The hills bordering the Straits of Gibraltar are 
the same bald, treeless, brown, thirsty-looking moun- 
tains, that confine the waters of our own bay from Lime 
Point to San Pablo. Even the rocks exposed by the 
breaking off of the face of a hill or point, look enough 
like the spurs of Saucelito to be easily mistaken for 
them. On the European side the monotony is relieved 
by the Moorish watch-towers of stone that still stand to 
attest the everlasting feud and constant struggle that 
was kept up between Christianity and Islam during the 
eight centuries' sojourn of that people in Andalusia. 
These are tall round towers placed at intervals of eight 
or ten miles, generally upon the mountain tops, that kept 
up a continuous line of communication by means of sig- 
nals from the shore, and from the Castilian frontier to the 
ancient capitals of Cordova and Granada. All down the 
valley of the Guadalquivir, along the Sierra Morena and 
the Sierra Nevada, as well as through the straits and up 
the Mediterranean coast, these towers still stand grim 
monuments of the watchfulness of the people that has 
passed away. 

Gibraltar occupies the extreme eastern point of the 
European side of the straits. A low tongue of land runs 
out into the sea from the rock called Point Europa. 
Twelve miles across is Point Africa, upon which is the lit- 
tle town of Ceuta, which can be easily seen from the fort- 
ress. We stopped eight hours at Gibraltar, and then 
steamed away for Malaga, arriving there in the morning, 
saveral hours before daylight. Here we left the good 
steamer Ebvo, and tried for the first time traveling by 
diligence. We did not leave Malaga till night. It ap- 
pears that in the summer months the weather is so warm, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



91 



that, for the sake of the animals, all traveling is done at 
night. The Spaniard is such a creature of habit, that 
what he does one year, week, or day, he must do all other 
years, weeks, or days. The idea of his making any change 
of action merely on account of a change of circumstances, 
is a thing quite beyond his philosophy. Now that the 
railways are becoming an important means of communi- 
cation, still it is almost impossible to get them to run a 
train in daytime. They have never been known to do it 
until night trains could no longer do all the business. 
Many lines of railway send but one train in the twenty- 
four hours, and that at ten o'clock at night. 

The diligence of Spain is not understood in any other 
country. It is the most uncomfortable, ease-destroying 
machine that ever was dragged over a road. Imagine an 
immense wagon without springs, two stories high, and 
divided into nearly as many compartments as it is intended 
to carry passengers. This last is the fault of all Euro- 
pean conveyances, and is what makes the diligence the 
abomination it is. In Europe, a man would rather 
be packed like a fig in a box, and be exclusive, than to 
have plenty of fresh air ?nd ease and comfort to be enjoyed 
with him by persons who, by some possibility, may be his 
inferiors. It is upon this idea that the wagon is divided 
up into a berlina and imperial, each intended for four pas- 
sengers, but too small for one — an interior designed for 
eight, but certain death to any number beyond three, and 
other little rooms as close and strong as so many fire and 
thief proof safes, unfit to carry a healthy dog. But if the 
berlina and imperial, which is the lower story, should be 
thrown into one, like the American eleven-passenger coach, 
or mud-wagon, resulting as it would in both being almost, 
but not quite, as comfortable as that horrid contrivance, 
the hidalgoes, when they traveled, would have to endure 
the contaminating presence of common people. If the 
imperial and the Black Hole of Calcutta, directly back of 



92 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



it, should be made one, the horrible common people would 
be more comfortable than the nobility in the berlina. 
Neither of these things are to be thought of for an 
instant. 

From Malaga the road leads directly up the mountain 
lying back of that city, and for four mortal hours the 
wagon creaked and wheezed, and the dozen drivers and 
postilions shouted and beat the mules, till finally we 
attained the summit. How we longed for a good Troy 
coach and six horses, with one American driver ! Here 
were twelve mules fastened with ropes to the stage, some- 
times two and sometimes three abreast, just as chance 
directed, shambling along just like a flock of sheep. The 
harness of untanned leather permitted the mules to run 
ten or twelve feet apart, or close together, at pleasure. 
At the extreme head of the drove rode the postilion, on 
an old horse, while the driver and two or three assistants 
sat upon the box, holding the lines that reached only to 
the wheel mules. The eight or ten animals between the 
wheelers and the one ridden by the postilion had no lines 
or check attached to them. Two fellows on each side, 
with stout sticks, ran on foot, shouting and beating the 
animals to make them gallop ; and on either side of the 
wagon a foot-soldier, armed with sword and musket, kept 
pace with the team at a dog trot. This was understood 
to be a protection against brigands. These changed at 
every three miles for soldiers of another district, each 
looking, if possible, a little more villainous than the last. 
At each change, upon getting a glimpse of the new face, 
I slipped my purse down under the seat with the full 
conviction that we were attacked by brigands. All night 
long this great crowd of drivers, postilions, soldiers, and 
runners, more numerous than the passengers, all shouting 
and hallooing, cursing and swearing, running into the 
loose flock of mules and scattering them, first to one side 
of the road and then to the other, kept the poor fellows 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



93 



in the coach bobbing and jolting about, half-dead with 
heat and fatigue. 

At daylight we arrived at Loja, and at eight o'clock at 
Santa Fe, an ancient town standing in the far-famed Yega 
of Granada. From here the city is distinctly in view 
across the level plain before its walls, so often the scene 
of desperate pitched battles and gallant single-handed 
combats between the chivalry of Spain and the infidel 
Moors. It appears that upon the very spot where Santa 
Fe now stands, the armies of Castile and Aragon were 
encamped during the memorable siege that resulted in 
the final fall of Granada, the last foothold of the Moors 
in Spain. On one occasion the tent of Queen Isabella 
took fire by accident, and the fire being communicated 
to the others, the whole camp was laid in ruins. This 
was hailed by the inhabitants of the beleaguered city as 
a most happy event. But the stern Catholic Queen soon 
put an end to the rejoicings, by causing to be erected 
upon the spot a camp of stone capable of accommodating 
the whole army, and almost as strongly fortified as 
Granada itself. This was the present Santa Fe. The 
distant cities of Seville and Cordova, to show their pa- 
triotism, assisted in the pious work, and the whole was 
completed, with the fine stone church that stands in the 
center, in eighty days from the day of its commence- 
ment. The cross that adorns the holy edifice appro- 
priately rests upon the severed head of a turbaned Moor 
carved in stone, the face being turned imploringly toward 
Granada. A half-hour's drive from Santa Fe put us 
down at the Fonda de la Alameda in Granada. 

All the way up the Yega the peasants were busily 
turning the waters of the Genii from their bed and pour- 
ing them over the gardens, orchards, and olive-groves of 
this fruitful plain. It is an easy task to describe the 
Yega of Granada. It is easy, very easy to describe all 
this country. The only danger is in having to repeat the 



94 GOING TO JERICIIO; OR, 



same story too often. It is California all the time — 
nothing but California ; mountains, valleys, and land- 
scapes, streams and shrubs, rocks and empty river-beds. 
The Vega of Granada would be called in California a 
valley ; in Spain it is called a plain, the word valley being 
applied to the narrow strip or gorge upon the immediate 
banks of a stream. There are more than a dozen valleys 
around the bay of San Francisco exactly like it. That 
of San Jose might easily be mistaken for it. The hills 
that surround it are about the same height, the plain is 
equally level, and both the plain and mountain alike des- 
titute of natural trees. 

The city is situated at the extreme southeast or upper 
end of the Vega, where the rivers Daro and Genii, or 
Xenil — as Irving spells it — issue from the Sierra Nevada 
and join. The Daro flows directly through the town and 
joins the Genii a half mile below. A tongue or spur of 
the mountains comes down between the rivers to the 
center of the city, so as to overlook it more boldly and 
abruptly than Telegraph Hill commands San Francisco. 
The point of this " divide " rises abruptly to a precipi- 
tous height of several hundred feet. Upon this stand 
the towers of the Alhambra ; the point of the hill 
hemmed in with walls that extend along its steep sides 
to a ravine in the rear inclosing about ten acres of land. 
Across the ravine, and still higher up the mountain spur, 
the ancient fortified palace of the Generalife overlooks 
the gardens and grounds of the Alhambra. 

There is an air of high breeding about the Spanish 
people, wholly unknown to the nations coming from the 
north. The smooth olive skin, the dark curly hair, the 
pearly teeth and bright eye, crowned by the arched brow, 
thought to be the special token of lofty extraction, is 
here as much the gift of the peasant as of the prince. A 
vulgar-looking person is unknown in Spain. Pep6, the 
guide whom we engaged, as soon as we arrived at Gra- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



95 



nada, to show us about the town, looked as much the 
hidalgo, and walked with as lordly an air, as if he had 
boasted an origin as old as the Braganzas, and claimed 
the privilege of remaining covered in the presence of the 
queen. I could not summon courage to be familiar with 
Pepe, although he was as atfable as a prince of the house 
of Austria. I know of no place or position in America, 
apt to be filled by men of a presence equal to his. He 
was not quite stout enough for our notion of the proper 
appearance of a senator of the United States, and he was 
altogether too intellectual looking for a mayor of New 
York. Perhaps a first-class embassador would have been 
nearer the mark of what Pepe would be taken for by a 
stranger in our country. 

The General was dressing when Pepe came to see us 
the first morning, and I was sitting in the room. His 
commanding style and appearance was sufficient to stop 
the conversation when he entered. I was bold enough to 
ask him to be seated, which he did with an easy air of 
self-possession. The General continued his toilet while 
I conversed with Pepe about Granada, While this was 
going on, I observed that my traveling companion was 
for some reason in a state of uneasiness. I soon dis- 
covered the cause. He wished to change his shirt, and 
did not like to do so in the presence of the distinguished 
guide. Seeing what was the trouble, I moved around 
and took my position in front of Pepe, so that his back 
would be toward the General while he was performing 
this delicate task. But I could not, do or say what I 
would, prevent him from turning his eyes constantly 
toward my friend, as if curious to see what he was doing. 
The General was in the mean time trying in a furtive 
way to get off his nether garment and slip it into his 
carpet bag, which was open before him. It was not, 
strictly speaking, a new shirt, nor was it in an advanced 
state of decadence. It svas a shirt which might, with 



96 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



reasonably tender care in the wash, and with an occasional 
stitch from a friendly hand after leaving the mangle, have 
served the turn required v of that class of garment from 
Spain to Jericho and back, and perhaps longer. But I 
could see that my friend was uneasy on the score of Pepe's 
sharp looks. The shirt was not such as could be pre- 
served longer in the presence of so respectable a person 
as Pepe. One look of contempt from that gentleman 
would have caused the sacrifice of two dozen such articles 
of apparel. The affair had reached that point, that if it 
could not be slipped into the bag without the knowledge 
of the personage who was seated in the room, it would 
be lost to the General. In the mean time he was tugging 
away with all his might to get it off. This was the 
critical moment. Just as it came over his head I put a 
bold question to the guide about the court of the lions at 
the Alhambra. But I was nervous, and my voice had not 
its usual strength. Pepe did not hear me, and turning 
his head, he caught the General's eye at the instant that 
that gentleman had the shirt made into a neat roll, ready 
to tuck away in the bag. But in vain, he was caught in 
the act. Blushing crimson, but struggling to affect an 
air of indifference, the General turned around and, blurting 
out something about the shirt being too much worn for 
further use, threw it into the remotest corner of the room 
under the bed. It had scarcely reached the floor, when 
to our amazement we saw the feet of Pepe twinkling in 
the air like a cat after a fugitive mouse, he was out of 
sight in an instant beneath the bed, then came crawling 
out again red in the face, and covered with feathers and 
cobwebs, but with the shirt firmly in his hand. We both 
stared at him as he brushed the dust from his knees. He 
looked at the General more in sorrow than in anger, and 
pronounced but one sentence. " They would have got 
that shirt, and I would never have laid eyes on it again." 
" Who ?" said the General. Pepe kept on puffing and 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



97 



brushing his legs, not condescending to answer so absurd 
a question. It had never occurred to the General to offer 
the garment to so well dressed a person as Pepe. " Who 
would have got it ?" he said at last. " They, the people 
of the house." The very thought of so horrible a result 
appeared to throw him quite out of his usual dignified 
deportment. " I would never have seen it again." This 
said, he rolled the shirt up into a neat bundle, put it in his 
hat, and putting that article upon his head, became again 
calm and self-possessed, looking, I think, just a little more 
dignified and condescending than when he first entered. 
The General having completed his toilet, we all set off 
up the hill, passing through the Gate of Pomegranates to 
the Alhambra, the route taken by Washington Irving 
when he first visited Granada, and Pepe walking all the 
way with so noble a carriage that I was lost in admira- 
tion. 

The Alhambra is all that, in the eyes of travelers, gives 
Granada any prominence over a dozen Spanish towns; 
and Washington Irving has done more to raise the 
Alhambra to a high place among the ancient Moorish 
palaces of Spain than did its architects and painters. It 
is a fine specimen of the Moorish castles and palaces, but 
not finer nor in such good preservation as the Alcazar at 
Seville. But this sweetest of American writers has 
thrown such a charm about the place that his countrymen 
go to it as the devout Christian makes a pilgrimage to the 
shrine of some saint. Irving has immortalized the place, 
and in doing so has done more for it than it alone could 
do for him. If he had not lived, Granada would have but 
few visitors. I saw nothing about the place more inter- 
esting than the rooms where the author of the Legends 
of the Alhambra dreamed away a half year in writing 
them. 

Almost the first thing I did upon entering the place 
was to wend my way to the Mirador de la Reina, whero 

5 



98 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



the author used to sit for hours gazing upon the distant 
Yega, the busy city at his feet and the Generalise up the 
mountain side. From here all the villages of the plain, 
not less than twenty in number, may be seen, spread out 
like a large map inclosed in a border of mountains. Let 
the Californiau reader stand upon any hill that overlooks 
the valley of San Jose, with that city and Santa Clara and 
the other minor villages of that delightful valley before 
his eyes, and he will know how the Vega of Granada 
appears. On the left is the Genii rushing down the moun- 
tain side, to be spread over the lands by the industrious 
farmers. The Sierra Nevada, covered with perpetual 
snows, glistens in the sunshine not twelve miles to the 
southeast. Prominent among the villages of the plain 
may be seen Santa Fe, all of solid stone, as on the day 
Ferdinand and Isabella marched from its strong walls to 
take possession of the Moorish capital. The double tow- 
ers of the church, between which is the Moor's head, are 
distinctly visible from the Alhambra, and with a good 
glass that melancholy emblem of the destruction of a 
people might be seen. The unfortunate Boabdil el Chico 
could stand here and watch the swaying ranks of friend 
and foe in the struggle of battle, as easily as Professor 
Lowe, from his balloon, overlooked the wars in Virginia. 

I find that Americans are altogether the most numerous 
of all the foreign visitors to the Alhambra. Guides all 
understand this. They have Washington Irving almost 
committed to memory. They show you each room that 
he inhabited, where he slept, where he ate and walked, 
and rode. This even, commences before you get to the 
place. At Madrid a Spanish guide assured us that he was 
the identical one that accompanied the embassador to 
Granada. He went so far as to relate to us, with great 
exactness, the full particulars of the journey, and espe- 
cially the story of the dance witnessed by Mr. Irving in the 
court of his inn on that occasion. But upon asking when 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



99 



this all occurred, he fixed the time at the year 1841, full 
twelve years too late. All the inhabitants of the Alham- 
bra and of the Generalife claim to have been personally 
acquainted with him, and more than half to have been his 
body -servants. He must have had a little army of attend- 
ants if they all speak the truth. Copies of Irving, trans- 
lated into the language of the country and neatly bound, 
are for sale at all the shops of the city. Besides, the 
attendants at this place all deal in Irving's books, and 
have shelves of them for sale in the Alhambra itself. 

The visitor to the Alhambra is almost sure to be disap- 
pointed at the diminutive size of the palace. The Court 
of Lions is not more than sixty by eighty-five feet in 
superfices, and its far-famed galleries and the columns that 
support them are only eighteen feet high. The fountain 
in the center with the twelve lions resembles about as 
much the king of beasts as twelve carpenters' saw-horses 
resemble a field of Derby winners. The hall of the Aben- 
cerrages opens upon the court. It is said to get this name 
from the fact that Boabdil caused thirty-two young men 
of that family to be beheaded at the fountain in this hall. 
A discolored slab is pointed out as being still stained 
with the blood. Washington Irving disputes this story 
entirely ; and as for the blood stains, there are certainly 
a half dozen other slabs in the room with the same kind 
of spots. Our guide explained the cause of the execu- 
tion to have been jealousy — that one of the ladies of the 
king's seraglio had been conversing with one of the 
Abencerrages in the garden of the Generalife. For this 
she was beheaded, but without disclosing which of the 
ill-fated family had been guilty with her. All refused to 
confess, whereupon the king, with a barbarous ingenuity, 
beheaded them all to be certain of the right one. I tried 
to get the same intelligent youth to point out to me where 
the mason of Granada had dug up the money of the 
priest, as well as the vault where stood the u two discreet 



100 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

statues." But Pepe assured me that the house was no 
longer to be found ; and that as for the statues, with the 
enchanted Moorish army, he had of late entertained some 
grave doubts about their ever having existed. But he 
pointed to the exact tower on the Generalife where the 
trained pigeon of little Dolores was supposed to have 
flown, as related in the journey of Irving to the Alham- 
bra. 

Granada contains about seventy thousand inhabitants. 
What they do in the way of business, as understood in 
our country, I was unable to ascertain. It is a lively, 
gay, and spirited city. It has an elegant paseo, as it is 
called, lined with beautiful trees, where the band plays 
in the afternoon, and where all the wealthy, the gay, and 
the beautiful congregate and walk and flirt. I have 
seen no better-dressed people in Spain, nor prettier ladies 
in Europe than in Granada. The ladies all wear the full 
Spanish costume, with scarf and veil. Paseo chairs are 
let at about one cent of our money for the benefit of 
persons who wish to look on at the gay throng. The 
band consists of not less than forty instruments, and 
generally consults Spanish taste by playing Verdi's music. 
1 suspect the youth of this city to be rather wild fellows. 
All about the aisles of the cathedral I observed large 
placards, giving notice that men found talking to women 
within these sacred precincts would incur the penalties 
of excommunication and be fined two dollars. This 
notice I have seen nowhere else in Spain, and the evil that 
would provoke so desperate an onslaught upon the souls 
and purses of wrong-doers must have become almost un- 
bearable. This cathedral, like all in Spain, is a noble 
monument of architectural skill, and not wholly unworthy 
of the claim of being the finest in the country, made in 
its favor by zealous partisans. It contains the tombs 
of Ferdinand and Isabella. Side by side they are buried, 
with effigies of each in marble supine upon the tombs. 



SKETCHES 



OF TEA VEL. 



101 



The sword of the Catholic king leans against his last 
resting-place. 

Like all Spanish towns, Granada suffers from the curse 
of lotteries. These have obtained a hold upon the poor 
to an extent not to be conceived of in our country. If I 
should be asked what was the worst evil I saw in Spain, 
I should answer lotteries, without doubt. The poor 
people often starve their children and even deny them- 
selves the necessaries of life to get money to spend in 
the purchase of tickets. They are sold everywhere, in 
highways and by-ways. The market-places have always 
a booth for furnishing them conveniently to the poor. 
One is to be found by the side of every church. Beggars 
sell them to beggars. Poor women have them from the 
Government officials to sell on commission. If you re- 
fuse to give alms, you are next implored by the mendicant 
to make your fortune by investing in the lottery. 

The first day we spent in Granada being ended, we 
paid our guide, Pepe, telling him to return in the morn- 
ing. " I have got it," said he, triumphantly, upon enter- 
ing our room the next morning. " Got what, Pepe ?" we 
asked. " The ticket, seiiors." And then he explained 
that for seven years past he had, without fail, purchased 
at each drawing of the grand lottery the number 37, 24, 
and each time he had drawn nothing. " Now you will 
readily understand that after seven years the matter is 
becoming very important, for it is naturally now liable 
■to come at any day. The drawing takes place to-morrow 
and I was without the means to procure the tickets till 
your Excellency fortunately came and furnished me with 
the necessary sum. This I hail as an auspicious omen." 
This statement Pepe made with much gravity. And 
continued, " what could I do after seven years of failure ? 
If I should omit to buy at any particular lottery, my 
numbers would be absolutely certain to come, and then I 
would be obliged to hang myself; would I not?" he in- 



102 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



quired. We assured him that we could see no other 
course for him to pursue under such circumstances. 
" Of course not, Senors, anybody would do so after hav- 
ing acted so foolishly. And I should have been without 
the means if you had not arrived just as you did." 



CHAPTER IX. 



SLEEPING IX A DILIGENCE. 

The Estremadura had already reached Malaga when 
we arrived, and was lying in the harbor at anchor. ^In 
her we coasted along, touching at Almeria, Carthagena, 
and Valencia, going on shore at each place and spending 
the day ; for these little vessels in the Mediterranean do 
their steaming at night and lie in port by day. At Bar- 
celona we left her finally, and took to the land, 

Catalonia is the richest province of Spain. It is — de- 
pending upon the art or science to which the writer wishes 
to resort for a figure — the garden, the workshop, or the 
stomach of the country. It is the Xew England, or the 
Scotland, or the ^orth Germany of Spain, if compared to 
the most energetic and industrious of other nationalities. 
Barcelona is the Liverpool of the kingdom, and the 
country around it is the Lancashire. 

The railway from Barcelona into France is completed 
as far as Gerona,and here a break occurs iu the connection 
of twelve hours by diligence to Perpignan, across the 
frontier. Just before night we reached Gerona, or the 
station of that place, which, as usual in Spain, is in the 
fields, a mile from the nearest house. We had taken our 
tickets through to Perpignan, and bad a right to expect 
a diligence to be in waiting for us ; and true enough, a 
dozen or more of those ponderous instruments of torture 
stood hard by the station, but with no horses put to 
them. We immediately commenced inquiring how we 



104 GOING TO JERICHO: OB, 



were to get on our way, but no one could give us the least 
information. If the arrival of the train from Barcelona 
had been as extraordinary a circumstance as the falling of 
an aerolite, there could not have been less appearance 
of preparation for the mysterious visitor. We asked 
fifty citizens in plain clothes, who stood staring at us, 
how we were to get on to Perpignan. They looked as if 
they would be glad enough to tell us what to do if they 
themselves only had known ; but so wonderful a thing 
as the arrival of a passenger train from Barcelona had 
quite upset them. We showed our tickets to five-and- 
twenty railway officials, all in the uniform of the com- 
pany ; but they appeared, if possible, more perplexed 
than even the citizen outsiders. 

A last a fellow, brighter than the others, kindly helped 
us to an idea. " Go and eat your dinners," he said. The 
suggestion was replete with the profoundest wisdom. 
We did not even discuss it, but set off for the town, each 
bearing his baggage in his hand. Our company from 
Barcelona up had been enlarged by a new acquaintance, 
Mr. Townsend Harris, from Japan — a pleasant old fellow 
for a Japanese, and who had been all over the world 
twenty or thirty times. The hotel at the entrance did 
not promise much. The lower part was used for a stable, 
and through this we were obliged to enter to ascend to 
the dining-room. But once within that portion set apart 
for the entertainment of man, things improved rapidly, 
and we soon found a substantial Spanish dinner in readi- 
ness. But what was better than all, we learned that the 
diligence which was to convey us to Perpignan took its 
departure from the stable under the inn, and would start 
as soon as we were ready. It did not take us long to 
satisfy our appetites, and in a quarter of an hour we were 
galloping out of the walls of Gerona, and upon the high 
road to France. 

By a happy chance, there was but one passenger in the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 105 



vehicle besides our party of three. He was a rough cross 
between a Catalonian peasant and a Barcelonian small- 
trader. His language was the Catalan — a language ap- 
proaching much more closely the French than the Spanish. 
His most notable point was his shoes ; they resembled in 
size and shape a pair of rough horse-collars. The General 
and Mr. Harris got into the coupe together. My ticket 
being first-class called for a place in the same aristocratic 
compartment; but I waived rank, and with the stranger, 
took the berlina, for here were two seats fronting each 
other, and extending quite across the body of the coach. 
The seats were long enough to permit a full-grown man, 
provided he had lost both of his legs, to lie down with a 
considerable degree of satisfaction. For a person so cir- 
cumstanced, they were just right. Unluckily for our 
present comfort, both myself and the stranger had escaped 
such mutilation, and the position was in consequence a 
little inconvenient. We, however, partially remedied the 
matter by lying squarely on our backs, with our legs ele- 
vated at right angles from our bodies, and extending up- 
ward against the side of the stage, like a half-open jack- 
knife, with our feet resting firmly against the under-side 
of the roof. 

My place was nearest to the horses — only a thin partition 
dividing me from my companions, the General and the 
Japanese gentleman. I could hear their conversation 
distinctly. Mr. Harris had entered upon a comprehensive 
account of a journey due-east around the globe, com- 
mencing at Japan, and I believe intending to end at the 
same place, embracing an essay upon the manners and cus- 
toms of the Japanese. By the time that we in the berlina 
had adjusted ourselves in our places, Mr. Harris had 
disposed of the Japanese, and all intermediate nations, 
and had reached Rome. Art, and especially the old 
masters, kept them for a long time in the Eternal City. 
The Transfiguration of Raphael alone detained the expe- 
5* 



106 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



dition for a good half-hour, and I dropped to sleep with 
such mysterious words as "foreshortening," "light and 
shade," and " background," sounding in my ears. 

I could not have slept more than three or four minutes, 
when I was recalled to consciousness by a violent crash, 
which in the suddeness of awakening, I took to be some 
terrible convulsion of nature — an earthquake at the very 
least. But I looked out of the window, and by the moon- 
light saw that the diligence was rumbling along the road 
at a good pace, while the cheery shouts of the postilions 
assured me that, whatever the catastrophe might have 
been, at least it was neither the end of the world nor the 
day of judgment. I soon learned what had happened. 
The Catalonian had fallen from the opposite seat upon the 
floor. I could see him get up without speaking a word 
and regain his place on his back, and one at a time slowly 
elevate his shoes to their original position against the 
roof. I lay still for ten minutes longer, during which 
time the General and Mr. Harris progressed in their 
travels farther east, discussing the ancient Greeks and 
especially dwelling upon art in the time of Pericles. 
Then my Catalonian companion gave two snores in ap- 
parent security. But it was merely fancied, for at that 
juncture one of his shoes left its place against the ceiling 
and then the other, and down they came, carrying the 
feet, the legs, and finally the Catalonian himself with them, 
to the bottom of the coach with a thump louder than before. 
I could now see the cause of the accident. The shoes of 
the traveler were so large and his body so light, that when 
the order of nature was reversed, and his feet put above 
his head, the center of gravity was thrown without the 
base. Nothing but a special miracle interrupting the laws 
of gravitation could have kept them up. But if he had 
been another Newton engaged in investigating that inter- 
esting science, he could not have been more persistent in 
his experiments. For eight hours I lay watching the efforts 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



107 



of my companion to sleep with his feet against the roof 
of the coach. I took out my watch and timed him. I 
found that after a fall he was invariably forty-three 
seconds getting from the floor upon his seat. The whole 
time between a fall and the moment of replacing his 
shoes against the roof, never varied above two seconds 
from one minute and a half. Eight minutes from that 
period always produced the first long respiration, and 
the crash generally came with the fifth snore. At twelve 
o'clock, just as Mr. Harris was entering the territory of 
the Deb-Rajah of Bootan, the General gave his first snore ; 
this continued without interruption all through Thibet to 
a point near the western part of the Chinese wall, when 
both the narrative of Mr. H., and the slumbers of the Gen- 
eral were brought to a close by our arrival at Perpignan. 
At this point my Catalonian had, according to my account, 
fallen from the seat forty-three times. 

We were set down at the door of the office of the 
Diligence Company at four o'clock in the morning, which 
in December was at least three hours before daylight. 
From the diligence office to the railway station was about 
a mile, and the connection was to be made in an omnibus 
which had not yet arrived. We were only half awake, 
but managed to make our way into the house, where we 
were besieged by the station-master to change Spanish 
money for French. This was just what I desired. T 
wished to pass upon some one, I did not care who, a 
counterfeit five-dollar piece of Spanish coin. This was 
absolutely the last chance I would have. To carry it into 
France was to lose it. In order to inform the reader of 
precisely how I was brought to the commission of this 
crime, it will be necessary for me to go back to the early 
part of my travels, and show how 1 became possessed of 
the base coin in question. 



108 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



CHAPTER X. 

MY FIRST STEP IN CRIME. 

If I were asked what is the chief occupation of the 
people of Spain, I should say, without hesitation, passing 
and rejecting counterfeit money. Not only small traders 
and innkeepers pass it constantly upon their customers 
and guests, but even the most respectable bankers make 
a business of mixing with the money they give to stran- 
gers a certain portion of counterfeit coin, and invariably 
deny the transaction if not discovered at the moment. 
The great struggle constantly going on is to take as little 
as possible and pass off all you can, in order to keep as 
nearly even with the world as may be. No one ever 
thinks of giving change, paying a debt, or even lending 
money, without taking care to mix with the sum paid out 
a certain quantity of coin of bad quality. All parties 
understanding this, the thing does not work so badly as one 
would at first think. One soon gets in the way of throw- 
ing out a part when offered, and of adroitly passing the rest 
to the unwary, thus keeping nearly even. If there be 
any thing in the doctrine held by some of our own states- 
men, that the wealth of a country is estimated by its cur- 
rency, and that the more currency there is in circulation 
the greater prosperity to the people, then is Spain the 
richest land upon the earth. But it is the stranger that 
suffers the most ; and of all strangers in the world, those 
from America are most likely to be taken in in this way, 
for they are, of all others, perhaps, the least accustomed 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 109 



to such small cheats, and, therefore, the least on their 
guard. 

I had progressed half the distance of our lengthy voy- 
age before I began to suspect the extent of this evil, 
when, gradually, I made the discovery that I was the pos- 
sessor of twenty or thirty base pistareens. I had received 
some indications of this flow of bad money to my coffers 
before, but had not suspected the extent of the evil. As 
long as the matter kept within a rensonable limit, as it did 
about Burgos and through Old Castile to Madrid, confin- 
ing itself to a few tin reals and pewter half pesitoes, its 
effect upon me was simply to slightly increase that natu- 
ral benevolence which has always characterized my dispo- 
sition. It directed my thoughts more frequently to the 
duty charged upon us to relieve the poor and comfort 
the needy. Up to that point I had been in the habit of 
bestowing alms in sums never exceeding two copper 
cents, valued according to the American standard of cur- 
rency. Now, with these pieces in my possession, bearing 
the Spanish imprint representing a value of five times 
that sum, I felt that my means of conferring happiness 
upon others was largely increased. I therefore passed 
away the bogus half pesitoes aud reals, as fast as I re- . 
ceived them, to the various aged and indigent females 
who beset me demanding alms as I passed through the 
streets. The dry and chilly air of Madrid tends to make 
ophthalmic diseases greatly prevalent, and, in consequence, 
a large proportion of the beggars of that capital are blind. 
This I found to materially facilitate me in getting rid of 
ihe yellowest and brassiest of my coin. I feel confident 
but for this fact I should have found great difiiculty and 
perhaps wholly failed in disposing of many of the worst 
specimens of which I found myself possessed. 

I think I have seen it mentioned, somewhere in my read- 
ing, that he that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord. 
If I am correct as to the aphorism, nothing could be more 



110 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



true than it proved to be in my case. I have no cause to 
complain of the good faith of my debtor. For every bogus 
real with which I gladdened the hearts of the suffering poor 
of northern Spain, not less than three copper pistareens 
were promptly repaid to me in Andalusia. All down the 
valley of the Guadalquivir, by ancient Cordova, the seat 
of the caliphs, through gay Seville, home of sweet oranges 
and sweeter women, to white-walled Cadiz by the sea, 
the flood of brazen wealth poured into my pockets. And 
here, for the first time, I began to mark an infirmity of 
my nature that I had not before known of, and which 
gave me much uneasiness. My benevolence began to fail 
me. I regretted the sums that I was lavishing upon the 
poor of Spain, and looked about for other investments. 
I had no trouble. I had been lending to the Lord with 
great apparent success. I determined to sell my coin. 

We were visiting churches every day. Each town had 
its vast cathedral, dating back to mediaeval times, its 
churches filled with paintings, relics, and sacred things, 
or its monastery celebrated for the virtue, the piety, or 
perhaps the martyrdom of its founder. For being admit- 
ted to these places no charge was made, but an oblation 
was expected, in return for which prayers of great efficacy 
were offered by the holy men in behalf of each generous 
donor. The people of the country and many strangers 
gave to the church copper .coin of good quality but of 
exceedingly small values. Upon these sacred w r aters 
henceforth I cast the accumulated bread that I had hith- 
erto been feeding to the poor. I ceased to give copper 
cents, and gave brazen pistareens. I found this custom to 
have a good effect upon my mind in instructing me in mat- 
ters of architecture, an art up to that time wholly unknown 
and unappreciated by me. It led me to note the distinct- 
ive features of the two great leading orders of this art 
that have been struggling for ascendency for centuries 
past. I found the Grecian to be lighter and more airy 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



Ill 



than the Gothic, and therefore much worse for any trans- 
action requiring secrecy or privacy for its execution. On 
the other hand, the vast composite columns of the Gothic 
churches, supporting the dark vaulted roof, the pointed 
windows, with stained glass, letting only a few faint rays 
of light reach its stone pavement below, seem to be de- 
signed by both art and nature to facilitate the passing 
of brass pistareens upon an over-credulous sacerdotal 
order. 

It may be thought by some that prayers and saintly 
intercession obtained in this way would be wholly ineffica- 
cious; that the fraudulent quality of the money paid as 
the moving consideration would so taint the entire trans- 
action as to render them void, ab initio. Of that I am 
unable to form any opinion worthy to be written down, 
and shall not attempt to solve the point. Of one thing I 
now feel certain. It is that I did wrong to impose this 
currency upon the church, but think it would have been 
more becoming in me to have kept up my generous course 
of open-handed liberality to the distressed, the poor, and 
the blind. And I think that, left to myself, I should have 
done so ; but the General who was with me, and gave 
his countenance and advice on all this matter, stood up 
for the church as a matter of right. And this he justified 
upon the-iugenious ground that as it would be undoubt- 
edly right to give her the tenth of this, or any goods 
of which I might be possessed, as a necessary conse- 
quence I must be at liberty to give her the whole. 
This, which I now perceive to have been a sophism based 
upon the fallacious reasoning that it was right to give 
the tenth of bogus money as a tithe to the church, at the 
time misled me ; and to this first wrong step I attribute 
all ray subsequent troubles and losses with counterfeit 
coin in Spain. 

I changed a £10 circular letter of the Union Bank of 
London for Spanish coin at the bank of Cahill, White & 



112 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 

Beck, of Seville, and found by that transaction that they 
were unprincipled rogues ; for they only gave me $46.50 
for the £10, and in the change gave me a five-dollar piece 
in counterfeit money. Nor did I discover the knavery 
until a week afterward, when I attempted to pay for ray 
passage from Carthagena to Valencia. I had in fact paid 
it out to the steward of the ship, received my ticket, and 
supposed the transaction at an end. But ten minutes 
after, that functionary walked aft to the cabin where I 
was stretched at full length on the lounge and, laying the 
five duro piece on the table, looked at me with a very 
cunning smile that meant something. " What is it ? " 
said I. " No buena ? " " Si, senor. Muy buena, pero muy 
bianco." I saw that it was no use to argue the matter j 
so laying another piece in his hand, I took up the " good 
but too white" coin, and went to consult the General. 

I soon found him engaged in looking out listlessly at 
the date and olive trees on the Andalusian coast. 
" What do you think of that ? " said I, in a hoarse whis- 
per, laying the money before him. He turned it over 
slowly and uttered but one word. " Bogus " said he, 
and handed it back. The remark convinced me that the 
General was not a sincere friend, and that I could not 
rely upon him in an emergency. I am now satisfied that 
I did him injustice and that he was with me for good or 
evil from the first, and meant nothing but for my welfare, 
both present and future. He was prompt with his opinion 
of what I ought to do, which he based upon what he 
would have done under similiar circumstances. He was 
clearly of the opinion that I ought to throw the piece 
overboard at once ; that we should visit no more churches 
in Spain was certain, and that to give so considerable a 
sum to a beggar would be to throw him into a luxurious 
mode of living calculated to endanger his life. And that, 
finally, as for passing it away in the course of business, 
involved the idea of there being another as stupid a fel- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 113 



low in Spain as myself, a thing which he could not, from 
his knowledge of that intelligent people, admit. He went 
on further to say, that as for himself, were the coin his, 
he could not think of passing it with the slightest doubt 
of its genuineness, on the ground of the dishonesty of the 
act. In short, that a thing immoral in Yreka was im- 
moral in like manner on the coast of the Mediterranean 
sea. In this I felt that he was sincere, and therefore 
respected the motive, while I did not intend to act upon 
the suggestion. " But," he continued, " if you conclude 
to make the attempt, I am willing to do all I can to assist 
you." I assured him that, having been brought up in the 
West, where the crime of counterfeiting was one of the 
most prevalent evils that beset the infant community, and 
where lynch law had often within my recollection been 
called in as an auxiliary in its suppression, I had naturally 
been taught to look upon the passing of false money as 
one of the blackest of all the felonies known to the law. 
And further, that this opinion had continued with me till 
the last few minutes, but that I felt that a material change 
had taken place in my views, and that if I could find any 
Spaniard, blind or lame, day or night, upon whom I could 
pass that image of Queen Isabella the Second, I should 
do so, and not carry it with me out of her Majesty's do- 
minions. 

If any one had told me three days before, that iu so 
short a time I would be found forgetting all the teachings 
of my youth, the examples of the good, the precepts of 
the pious, and embarking upon a career of crime short in 
duration, but almost unexampled in persistency of pur- 
pose, I should have laughed at the bare idea. Yet from 
Valencia Harbor to Alfaka Bay, and thence to Barcelona 
by sea, and all through Catalonia by land, in all sorts of 
modes and under all manner of pretences, I daily and 
hourly committed the crime of attempting to pass coun- 
terfeit money. Not only in English, pretending igno- 



114 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



ranee of all other tongues, but in bad French, worse 
Spanish, and infamous Catalan, the poetical language of 
Oc, fit language only for troubadours, did I continue the 
nefarious business. I made an estimate, based upon the 
Criminal Code of California, assuming the laws of Spain 
to be similiar to that enlightened system which has-been 
so triumphantly successful in purging our State of all 
wrong doing, in order to ascertain the extent of punish- 
ment that I had incurred. The result was my finding 
that between Barcelona and Gerona, had I been convicted 
of each offense, one hundred and sixty-three years and six 
months in the state prison and a loss of all civil rights ex- 
cept that of participating in primary elections and acting 
as delegate to State conventions, would alone expiate my 
crimes. 

After the coin was rejected on board the ship, I soon 
found that we, and especially the General, were objects 
of suspicion to all. The officers appeared to get an idea 
that we were part of an organized gang of foreigners 
that were going through the country ostensibly as 
travelers, but really as coiners. That we were a gang of 
counterfeiters all appeared to agree, and that my com- 
panion was the leader and high up in the ranks his com- 
manding appearance, as well as the deference paid to him 
by me and the high title of General, settled beyond a • 
doubt. Probably we had the presses, dies, and sinks in 
our baggage. 

In Missouri, a great many years ago, there was an old 
fellow named Spurlock, who used to make counterfeit 
Mexican dollars down in the swamps of the Chariton. 
To put him in jail of course was no use, for he would get 
out in a week or two and go back at his old business. 
But - the farmers of the neighborhood concluded that if 
they could get hold of his machinery, called by them 
" the moles," they could safely let the old fellow go, as 
he would be for the future harmless. They accordingly, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 115 



with that readiness of resource which has always charac- 
terized the hardy sons of the West, tied old Spurlock's 
arms and bending down a stout hickory sapling put the 
old fellow's neck right in the fork. Now, they said, tell us 
where ." the moles " are and we will let you go about 
your business, otherwise we will let this sapling go up 
with you and we will go about our business ; but the 
hoary old sinner had been too long in the backwoods to be 
frightened at trifles. He refused and up went the tree, 
and with it up went old Spurlock. Having waited long 
enough to afford the ancient manufacturer of the coin of 
our sister republic a reasonable time for reflection, the 
tree was again brought down and he was taken out 
and the question was repeated : " Spurlock, where are the 
I moles ? ' " But still he was game. Again he went into 
the air with the elastic young hickory. This experiment 
was repeated a third and last time without success ; 
when the party, feeling that they had exhausted every 
means justified by the enlightened sentiment of the age 
to get at the instruments of vice, started reluctantly on 
their way home, leaving old Spurlock hanging by the 
neck in the sapling. But they had not proceeded more 
than one hundred yards on their way, when the hinder- 
most of the party fancied he heard a squeaking sort of 
sound proceeding from the direction of the suspended 
man. A close attention in that direction proved that the 
sound was made by old Spurlock, who, in a hoarse, 
squeaking but distinct whisper, was trying to say, 
I Moles ! Moles ! " He had surrendered. He was speed- 
ily brought to earth, and when restored to respiration, 
which was well nigh gone, discovered the place where 
the coining apparatus was concealed, and was set at 
liberty. The getting possession of the M moles " proved 
as efficacious as the warmest advocates of that drastic 
measure could have desired. Old Spurlock immediately re- 
formed, and took up a pre-emption claim in the Chariton 



116 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



bottom, where I have no doubt he or his children are 
living to this day in great respect and virtue. 

The politeness of the Spanish people toward persons in 
the business of passing counterfeit money is wonderful. 
Not one ever hinted that any of my coin was bad. It 
was all, they assured me, perfectly good, but it was too 
white, or it was short weight, or it was too yellow. It 
was never bad. But all look at you with a sort of con- 
cealed smile of triumph, as much as to say : " No, you 
don't; you can't play me." But to pass counterfeit 
money in Spain with success requires experience. When 
you buy any thing and lay down your money, they first 
get out their requisite amount of change, taking care to 
mix in about one-third bad coin, and this done, they ex- 
amine the piece tendered. If bad, they reject it and 
ask you for another piece. If you feel guilty, as I did in 
each case, you speedily throw down another, and seizing 
whatever is offered, hurry off to find on examination that 
instead of decreasing your stock of bogus money you 
have added to it not less than half a dozen pistareens of 
brass so plain that even the shades of night will not en- 
able you to pass them away. 

At the frontier, of course, both myself and the General 
conceded that all efforts to get rid of the bad money must 
cease. But when the station-master came and made the 
offer, I saw that I had one more chance, and resolved to 
avail myself of it. Every thing depended upon the skill 
and care with which the crime was managed, and it was 
necessary for all to be exceedingly circumspect to avoid 
suspicion. But the offer of the man to take Spanish 
money recalled our old troubles to the General's mind, 
and without thinking, he demanded of Mr. Harris, with 
a careless manner : " Have you been stuck with any 
counterfeit money in Spain ?" I felt this to be an un- 
friendly act, inasmuch as it tended to bring up the subject 
of false money in a prominent way, and to put the money- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 117 



changer upon his guard. " Oh, not much ; I knew in 
advance how the thing was, and kept on the lookout. I 
took one pistareen in the night." " What did you do 
with it?" I gasped. If he had passed it away there 
would be between us a fellowship in crime, and I could 
counsel with him. " What did I do with it ? Oh," said 
he, " I threw it away, of course," thrusting his thumbs 
through his armholes with an air of jaunty honesty. 
" Yes," I responded, " of course. Oh, of course, there 
was no other way to do." How I envied the old fellow 
his clear conscience and freedom from brass money. But 
I soon satisfied myself that I might as well go on as I 
had begun. Mr. Harris was full thirty years my senior 
and had, therefore, so much less time in which to repent 
and set about a new mode of life ; a thing I was resolved 
to do the moment I got rid of my bogus coin. 

But the station-master did not understand English 
very well, and passed the conversation without observa- 
tion. And when he again approached me, which he did 
soon after, to know if I would exchange Spanish money 
for French, I said yes, without hesitation. Mr. Harris, 
hearing me reply, came up and whispered, " That fellow 
will skin you out of your eye-teeth." " Let him skin," 
said I boldly ; " I'll try it." " Don't give him any 
doubtful money," said the General, playfully. I felt hurt 
at this remark, but he afterward explained that he had 
no idea that I intended to try the thing on a regular 
dealer. "What do you give?" I demanded. "Five 
francs for a dollar," he replied. " Oh, I can do better 
than that at the railway station." He assured me, on 
the contrary, that they were great thieves at the rail- 
way station, and would not give me near as much. I 
finally consented, and threw out all my gold, which he 
examined carefully, and paid me in francs. Had I gone 
to the station I would have got more for my good gold 
than the fellow gave me for good and bad, but the human 



118 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



mind is so constituted that when a man resolves on the 
commission of a crime he will pursue his reckless course 
although he loses the whole fruits of his wickedness. 
The knowledge of this fact, which was brought home to 
me as soon as I arrived there, resulted in an immediate 
and thorough repentance of the whole transaction, a course, 
however, which I had resolved upon from the first. Be- 
fore actually passing over the coin, the General, who was 
still I think in good faith co-operating with me, took Mr. 
Harris out of the room on some pretense and kept him 
there till the crime was fully consummated. 

Grabbing my carpet-bag and shawl, and without stop- 
ping to count my change, I left for the omnibus at a 
prodigious speed. Suddenly I felt a hand laid firmly but 
heavily on my shoulder. It was quite dark, but if it had 
been broad daylight I should not have been able to dis- 
tinguish the face of the officer of the law who had evi- 
dently apprehended me. Old Spurlock's mild fate, 
together with unknown Spanish tortures, garrote and 
death, crowded confusedly into my mind. I clutched at 
the handful of uncounted French gold in my pocket with 
the resolution of offering to disgorge the whole as the 
price of my liberty. But it proved to be kind Mr. Harris 
who was coming to again warn me of the dishonesty of 
the fellow with whom I was dealing, and to tell me how 
much better I could do at the station. Trembling in 
every joint from the fright he had given, I contrived to 
tell him that he was too late, and that the iniquitous 
transaction was closed. 

Going down the street in the omnibus, we could see 
by the light of the large coach-lamps that a man was pur- 
suing us again. I gave up all for lost, but it proved to 
be the guard, who jumped up behind to collect the fare. 
If the fellow had but just looked fierce, and demanded 
money without stating what sum, he would have gone 
off with all I had. We were at Narbonne by daylight, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 119 



where we changed cars, the train we left going on to 
Bordeaux. From this point I began to feel more at ease, 
though the strong extradition laws subsisting between 
the two nations of France and Spain were not calculated 
to encourage that feeling. The General, with a feeling 
of security, no doubt greatly encouraged by a lengthy 
residence in Siskiyou County, California, seemed to feel 
himself out of danger as soon as the train started from 
the frontier town of Perpignan. At Marseilles I did not 
feel entirely safe, nor was my confidence fully restored till 
we reached Naples. 



CHAPTER XI. 



GOING TO THE ORIENT. 



Naples is a fine place no doubt in fine weather, but 
it is subject to storms, and we were treated to a first- 
rate one while there. It has been said, I believe, by the 
great lexicographer, " Go to Naples and then die." I see 
no reason for it, unless it be for conscience sake. The 
craters of Vesuvius and the sulphuric fumes of Solfatara 
on either side, suggest the notion that some souls might 
not have far to travel if they did so. A storm commenced 
at Naples the second day after our arrival. Like most 
harbors in the Mediterranean, this is good enough in 
ordinary weather, but a terrible snare in stormy. The 
second morning I waded out through mud and mire to 
see thirty vessels piled up on the beach, or grinding to 
pieces against the walls and jetties of the little artificial 
harbor. All around the crescent-shaped port from the 
Castle even to Portici, at the foot of Vesuvius, the rich 
and varied cargoes of dry goods and wet, timber and 
tobacco, fish and fruits, were tumbling about, while thou- 
sands of bare-legged Masaniellos were eagerly braving the 
angry flood in search of the tempting wealth. For two 
weeks of our three spent here the tempests increased day 
by day. No vessel could land short of " Castel-Mare," 
sixteen miles away. One American ship captain, with a 
cargo of petroleum, excited the admiration of the town 
by holding his own vessel and a half score of Italian and 
Greek craft that got foul of him. The fishermen declared 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



121 



it a miracle — but no doubt good chains, heavy anchors, 
and plenty of them, with watchfulness, was the secret of 
the matter. But we came to Naples in flight from the 
winters of the north. We were searching for a climate 
as genial as our own California, and it was not to be found 
in Italy. After ten days the weather settled sufficiently 
to permit excursions to Pompeii, Vesuvius, and Puzziola, 
but having already during the storms visited San Carlo, 
and spent all our loose cash in coral and lava jewelry, 
we were in condition to exact of Naples what had been 
promised to us in its behalf — fine weather — under pain of 
leaving the place. Fine weather — a thing of which Cali- 
fornians are not the worst judges in the world — failed to 
appear. 

We therefore shook the mud of Italy from our shoes 
and took passage in the Cunard steamship Olympus for 
Alexandria. The ship had sailed from Liverpool eighteen 
days before, with two passengers on board — young Scotch 
girls going to Egypt to visit relatives. How they had 
been buffeted by the storms of that time, from the Eng- 
lish Channel to the Bay of Biscay, and through that, 
bringing snow on their decks quite to the Straits of Gib- 
raltar ; and how they had been rolled and tossed about 
as they came up the dreary Spanish coast, never seeing so 
much as a pleasant day nor a moment's comfort till they 
entered the Bay of Naples ; and how, if they ever got 
back to dear old Scotland, nothing would ever tempt 
them to leave it again — was a story that we all listened 
to with sympathetic eagerness as we ran down the toe 
of the great Italian boot, searching for the Straits of 
Messina. 

The Olympus is a steamer of one thousand two hundred 
tons, and belongs to the " British and North American 
Royal Mail Steam Packet Company," as the' Cunard 
people call themselves. We had been brought from 
America to Europe in a French ship. We had done all 
6 



122 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



our ocean traveling since in Spanish and Italian vessels. 
I had never been to sea in an English ship before. In- 
deed I had contracted a prejudice against almost every 
thing English, and it extended doubtless even to their 
ships, and especially to English ship-captains and officers. 
They might be safe enough, I thought, but it was certain 
that they were uncivil and overbearing toward passen- 
gers. But two trips at sea with Spaniards, who know as 
much about a steam-engine as they do about the science 
of good government or the advantages of religious toler- 
ation, and one with Italians, who know, if possible, even 
less than do the Spaniards, had made me wide awake to 
the pleasure of feeling comparatively safe when I should 
be sleeping with but one plank between myself and the 
bottom of the ocean. I do not care how much an Ameri- 
can may feel aggrieved at English depredations upon 
American commerce, or how deep may be his determina- 
tion to have a settlement with that power on the first 
favorable occasion, but let him be traveling in these bar- 
barous countries, such as Spain and Italy, and after trying 
the people in all the various relationships of hotel-keeper, 
banker, and ship-master, and then let him find himself 
on board an English steamer, commanded by an English 
captain and manned by English engineers and sailors, 
and he will be willing to go far toward settling the diffi- 
culties in a friendly way, out of gratitude for the pleasure 
he has enjoyed in the almost unknown feeling of safety 
and confidence during the voyage. It is worth the price 
of one's passage to hear the word of command passed 
forward in good round intelligent English — " stop her," 
"go ahead slow," " half speed," especially after being hum- 
bugged about in the Mediterranean for weeks listening 
to the verbose Spaniards, trying in vain to say the same 
words in our glorious language, the only one known in 
the engine-room all around the globe. 

It was four o'clock in the afternoon when we pulled 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



123 



alongside the Olympus, as she lay at anchor in Naples 
Bay. The sun was sinking behind the new mountain 
reared by Pluto's fires, more than a thousand years since 
that Roman citizen, St. Paul, plodded his weary journey 
on foot along the Appian way from Puteoli, where the 
Castor and Pollux had landed him, to the capital of the 
Roman world, carrying up his appeal to Caesar. We 
could from the ship's deck see the mountain and the 
town, and almost the road the illustrious prisoner fol- 
lowed so long ago, while to the left Capri, with its twelve 
palaces of Tiberius and its olive groves, seemed to float 
like some great sea-monster at the entrance to the bay, 
keeping guard over its blue waters. Turning to the east, 
Vesuvius loomed up over our heads, with its old and new 
cone, wdth its frozen torrents of lava, black and grim, 
marking its scarred sides, covering farms, olive orchards, 
fields and vineyards of lachryma christi, as the shadows 
of floating clouds on a sunny day in June darken the 
golden fields of growing grain. 

" Good day, ladies and gentlemen," said a cheery, 
pleasant voice, as we walked aft toward the wheel. We 
did not then know the speaker ; but the tones were un- 
mistakably friendly and assuring. He was about five 
feet eight inches high, and not a great deal less than that 
measurement in beam, wore a tight-fitting sack coat, 
reaching halfway to the knees, and seeming to fit that 
part of his person as closely as any point farther up. But 
his hands and feet were small, his neck neatly dressed, 
and his round head covered with light, curly, close-cut 
hair, under a regulation naval cloth cap, with a lion ram- 
pant embroidered on the front, was firmly set on his 
square shoulders. His face as round as the shield of 
young Norval, show T ed the veins full of red blood, under 
the thin but weather-beaten skin, raising in the stranger 
at a first glance, an unjust suspicion of intemperance in 
drink. A second look, however, dissipated the wrongful 



124 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



notion, and left the true one that a jollier, a kinder, or 
better sailor never trod a plank. This was Captain James 
Dubbins, of the Olympus, my first English captain; and 
my advice to all of my friends is, that they are never to 
miss a chance to go in his ship. If they are waiting for 
a vessel, and none go in the right direction but French 
or Spanish steamers, and Captain Dubbins passes, though 
going the wrong way, take passage with him. He'll 
come back with yon, and there's no certainty that the 
others will. We were fully at home in the Olympus in 
five minutes. Had our trunks all come aboard, and were 
they properly stowed away ? inquired the kind captain ; 
if not, he would go and order it done. We thanked him, 
it was already attended to. We had been traveling too 
long with high-toned California steamship lords to expect 
any aid from those in authority. Every fellow for him- 
self, was our rule, and we had carried up our own things. 

In the mean time, more travelers for the East came 
up the side to be greeted in the same way, and made 
welcome to the floating mansion. Emboldened by cour- 
tesies so unusual, we began to ask questions : " Which 
side of Capri do we go, captain, in leaving the bay ?" 
64 To the eastward," is the prompt reply. " Do we have 
a pilot ?" " Oh, no, bless you, it's no trouble to^ get in 
or out of Naples. Wait a bit, and I'll go and fetch the 
chart and show you." " Oh, no," we say in great fright, 
" don't do it," but the protest is lost to the captain, who 
is already half way down the ladder, and away to his 
office forward of the engine. Soon he comes puffing 
back, his face even redder than ever, and all covered with 
a pleasant smile, at a chance to do a kindly or polite act 
to some one. The great chart is soon spread open on 
deck, with its elegant steel engravings of rocks, headlands, 
and shoals, all colored and finished and mounted in rich 
style in London. By this time, the passengers have in- 
creased to twenty, and all flock around looking on, and 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



125 



all except myself, who had, by my question brought on 
the catastrophe of the chart, are enjoying it hugely. 
When all have had a look, it is rolled up and carried 
back to the office. 

The agent having come off with the papers, and all 
passengers being aboard, the anchor is hoisted, and we 
begin to steam down the harbor. Passing Portici and 
Herculaneum, Torre del Greco, and Pompeii, and at last 
getting from under the lofty shadow of Vesuvius, the an- 
cient and modern enemy of them all, we finally feel that 
we are bidding adieu to Naples and to Italy. But all the 
evening the passengers remained on deck, gazing upon the 
classic shores that glided past us in panorama rich as 
their own history. Amalfi, once an independent repub- 
lic, and boasting the double discovery of the mariner's 
compass, and the lost codes and pandects of Justinian, 
could be faintly seen to the left ; while down the coast, 
Paestum, no more a ruin now than in the days of Cicero, 
could be faintly traced against the eastern sky. By 
eleven o'clock reluctantly we separated, lingering, as we 
went away to our beds, to gaze again and again at the 
fading shores. 

The first sound I heard in the morning was the pleas- 
ant voice of the captain calling for volunteers to look at 
Stromboli. I was out in an instant, but found that others 
had entered the service as willingly as myself. There 
the grumbling monster stood broad and tall, right up 
from the bottom of the sea, like a great hay-stack in the 
center of a meadow, but smoking and sputtering like a 
charcoal-pit. It was the first volcanic smoke proper we 
had seen, for Vesuvius was torpid, and showed no signs 
of life from Naples. True, we had been to the summit, 
and met the thin vapors that proceed from the crater, 
but a volcano smoking away like a great blast furnace, 
and visible as far as the mountain itself, was a novelty 
worth a long look. But it did not get it from us that 



126 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



morning, for there, right dead ahead in the track of the 
vessel, stood the monarch of the mountains, old Etna 
himself, cold and gray against the morning sky, by the 
side of which, Vesuvius and Stromboli, and all the fum- 
ing furnaces about, were the veriest mole-hills. Although 
we were gazing at Etna with the bulk of the island of 
Sicily and leagues of sea water between, yet clear above 
the clouds and vapors that hung around the little kingdom 
and over the straits and city of Messina, the giant reared 
his snow-clad head, wreathed with a smoky plume that 
swayed with the winds from earth to the bluest arch of 
heaven. It stands alone, rising directly up from the 
seashore in one single point far within the region of per- 
petual snow. And at the top the volcanic cone, like a 
large hogshead resting upon all as a funnel, from which 
issues in volumes the smoke of Vulcan's furnace, stands 
above the horizon. We saw Etna at daylight. At eleven 
a. m., having passed Scylla and Charybdis, so terrible 
to the ancients, we changed our course to the east, and all 
day long sailed directly away, yet when night came upon 
us it still stood up out of the bosom of the sea eighty miles 
away, and as plain as when first we saw it. We left it 
quite out of sight in the night, and in the morning we 
have only the sea, the ship, and the pilgrims for Jerusalem 
to look at, till the flat sands of Africa shall come in view. 

There are more than twenty persons on board — all, 
except two Scotch girls, howadjis or pilgrims, bound for 
the holy places. All were Americans, except three En- 
glish boys just out of school and finishing their education 
with a sprinkle of travel. Of the Americans I would 
not like to say how many were preachers on leave of 
absence for a year (salaries going on) for delicate lungs. 
If I should tell how near it was to half the entire num- 
ber, I would disclose an amount of bad health among the 
clergy of America that might create a panic in many a 
congregation. I will only say, that had we been at sea 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 127 



over the following Sunday — a thing reasonable to calcu- 
late upon when we left Naples, and which nothing but an 
extraordinarily short voyage could prevent — we should 
have had an amount of square preaching in that ship that 
would have been a warning of some sort to every sinner 
of us for the balance of our natural lives. Whether the 
devil loving his own, and fearing the loss of some of us 
under the unctuous teachings of some pious howadji, 
greased the ship's keel and slid her through the water 
with extra speed, or whether Capt. James Dubbins clapped 
on full steam with the view to turn some of this eloquence 
among the heathens of Alexandria as a more rich and 
extensive field, I know not, but certain it is that on Satur- 
day, at four o'clock, we dropped anchor at that port, after 
an unprecedentedly short run of less than four days. 

We had been told that the African coast was low and 
flat, but we were scarcely prepared to see the masts of 
shipping in the harbor, before the town of Alexandria or 
the land upon which it is built. The guide-books state 
that the first object seen in approaching is Pornpey's 
pillar, but such is not the case. We saw the ships' masts 
and the light-house about the same time. The pillar can 
not be seen for near an hour after, and not till the vessel 
is within the harbor. History relates how Alexander, 
after conquering Syria and Asia Minor, passed along the 
coast and saw that nature had designed this for a great 
city ; that he immediately had it surveyed oflf into streets, 
squares, and water lots, and set the people to piling and 
capping, building and filling in, electing superintendents 
of streets and letting contracts for paving and cobble- 
stoning. The position of Alexandria, with reference to 
the trade with India, is of course admitted and demon- 
strated, but a worse harbor than this can not be found 
among all the snares for ships that go by that name from 
one end of the Mediterranean to the other. " It is all well 
enough," said Capt. Dubbins to us one pleasant afternoon 



128 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



on the quarter-deck, " in Alexandria while the weather 
is fine, but let it come on once to blow, and then it is 
every one for himself. I went against a lot of their 
Egyptian craft last winter, and left them scattered about 
like a basket of eggs that has had a hard fall. But 
fortunately in Egypt nobody pays for any thing, so we 
got off without loss. They fetched us in court, and hum- 
bugged us about a while, but at last it was brought in 
that it was a case of force majeur, as they call it, and 
nobody to blame, so we paid nothing." 



CHAPTER XII. 



Cleopatra's needle and Thompson's pillae. 

A mile short of the harbor's entrance we saw the pilot 
pulling out to us, and stopped to wait for him. He sat 
in the stern of his two-oared yawl, dressed in flowing 
trousers and fez hat, the very personification of Oriental 
dignity. The oarsmen, both Arabs, stood up as they 
tugged away against the wind and current. One was a 
venerable old fellow, with a beard of snow that reached 
to his waist. Both wore long flowing gowns and full 
turbans. It was our first view of the Mussulman in his 
own land. This, like the sight of the first palm-tree, 
touches a chord in the memory that is responded to by 
strange and indescribable emotions. The pilot soon sprang 
up the side and walked forward to the bridge. His ven- 
erable boatmen settled themselves to rest in their boat, 
with a strong towing-rope made fast to the Olympus, and 
in five minutes we were running between the two floating 
buoys that alone mark the entrance, or show that there is 
such a thing as a harbor of Alexandria. Just at this 
point the bell rang for dinner earlier than usual ; for the 
captain could not think of allowing his passengers to enter 
into the life and death struggle of landing among the 
Egyptians upon an empty stomach. The greater part of 
the dinner hour was spent on deck, there being a rushing 
to and fro, a rising up and sitting down all through the 
meal, that showed how interested we all were in what 
was going on ajbove. Anchor was dropped between the 
Q* 



130 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



soup and the fish, and before the salute all had finished, 
and dinner was over. 

In Mediterranean ports passengers can not pick up their 
carpet-bags and rush off on the first plank that is shoved 
over the ship's side, as in America. First, ships do not 
lie alongside wharves, nor can passengers go on shore 
when they please. The port authorities must be consulted 
about the very serious political affair of the arrival of Mr. 
and Mrs. Brown, or General Thomas Jefferson Smith, 
from the United States of America. No one knows 
what might happen if they should land before the Port 
Admiral had signed a permission to that effect. Brown 
may have incendiary proclamations in his pocket addressed 
to the people, or General Smith may be the secret military 
agent of some club designed to subvert the government. 
Of course all these nefarious plans can easily be check- 
mated, provided the chief officer of the port can have time 
to read the names of the conspirators, and compel them 
to sign a paper. 

We, therefore, stood for a half hour looking over the 
ship's side at the crowd of Arab boatmen, not less than 
fifty in number, that flocked about, each waiting for the 
chances of getting one of the five-and-twenty Christian 
passengers to trust their valuable fortunes in his craft 
from the ship to the neighboring custom-house. No two 
of these were dressed alike ; and as for their complexion, 
that varied more in color than even their costumes. It 
was evident that we were surrounded by specimens of all 
the mixed nations of the East, but how to recognize them 
was a task to which none of us as yet was equal. Address- 
ing myself to a fine specimen seated in one of the boats, 
and possessing that jet black skin and fine curly hair, 
known in our country as being peculiar to the loyal resi- 
dent population of the District of Columbia, I said to 
him : " What countryman are you, my Lily of the 
Valley?" With a genial smile, that a Constitutional 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



131 



Democrat would have called a grin, and which, in fact, 
did disclose a great deal of ivory, extending all over his 
intelligent face, he promptly replied, "I'sa African man ! 
Ca-hyah-hyah ! hyah!" In truth, I had already suspected 
as much. A grave-looking Arab sitting in the next boat, 
and overhearing the inquiry, endeavored to mislead me 
by saying in a solemn manner, and pointing to the Ethiop, 
"He Irishman." I paid no attention to this, but soon 
after saw the Mussulman surrounded by a crowd of ad- 
miring friends, all looking at me and giving vent to peals 
of laughter. It was plain that he was telling them how 
he had humbugged the verdant Frank from the Far West, 
who had never seen a black man before. There was a 
pale-faced and straight-haired assistant or partner in the 
boat with the "African man." Overcoming by a strong 
effort a natural prejudice contracted against his color, 
upon hearing the news of the Memphis and New Orleans 
riots and the elections in New Jersey, I put to him the 
same question. " Where are you from, my ' Tulip of the 
Nile ?' " " Me 'Giption" (Egyptian) — pronounced hard 
as in gumption — he said, and I passed from him to others. 
But they were all more anxious to secure a fare than to 
give information upon points bearing upon the science of 
ethnology. " Me Arab," said one fellow, "and got good 
boattee ; carry your luggage and all for one shilling." 
" What is your name ?" " Hassan," was the ready answer. 
I had read of him in the Arabian Nights, and took his 
boat from the association alone. 

It was now near dark and the custom-house half a mile 
away. But through the energy of Hassan and his part- 
ner, Yusef, we were soon seated on our trunks and pull- 
ing along under the sterns of a great crowd of steamers 
that fill this harbor from all parts of the Mediterranean 
world. One fine screw, of at least 1,000 tons, was the 
Calif or nian. I read the name and mentally 'thanked the 
unknown owner for the compliment. When we got to 



132 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the pier of the custom-house we were told that the high 
and excellent Bashaw, whose duty and privilege it was 
to circumvent the wicked Smiths and Browns in their 
attempt to destroy Egypt and the true religion, by com- 
pelling them to sign their names on a piece of paper 
before setting foot upon her sacred soil, was still at his 
Excellency's dinner. There are no tides worth mention- 
ing in the Mediterranean, so that the piers are but a foot 
or so above the water's edge. There we lay for two mor- 
tal hours, until far into the night, with a guard of the 
police, or Egyptian soldiers, bravely holding us in check 
at this slight parapet until dinner should be eaten, and 
perhaps digested, by that distinguished personage who 
had the interests and religion of the country in his spe- 
cial keeping. 

At last, when patience was all gone and despair fully 
in its place, a great outcry of " clear the way for his 
mightiness," followed by stillness most profound, an- 
nounced that the chief officer had come. Low bows were 
made and in he stalked, six feet two inches high, in flowing 
Eastern robes and lofty turban, and as black as the great- 
great-great-grandfather of Parson Honeycutt. I was not 
in a first-rate humor. If the Grand Bashaw had proved 
of white skin I should have been mortally offended. As 
it was, his politeness, amounting almost to affability, soon 
quite won me over. I thought what a pity to throw so 
fine a system into a state of ignoble dyspepsia by hasty 
eating. Besides he appeared to be utterly free from any 
weak bias against caste or color. I, for a short time, 
almost envied him his entire freedom from any sort of 
prejudice against the white race. And it was admirable. 
But it must be remembered that he had never in his life 
seen a Democratic primary election. 

Before finally reaching the shore we entered into an 
agreement with Hassan, to act in the multiple character 
of general undertaker of carriages, dragoman, custom- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 133 



house broker, and to put us down at our hotel for a fixed 
compensation, which was to be five francs for each person. 
Hassan had already given us to understand that by judi- 
cious management, he could get us, goods and all, through 
the custom-house without the opening of a package. Now 
I am certain, that of the whole dozen or more of trunks, 
great and small, carpet-bags, and valises belonging to the 
company, not one of the lot contained even the slightest 
thing, from a cigar to a proclamation of revolt against the 
authority of the Pasha, that could have upon the most 
rigid inspection been deemed contraband. Yet such is 
the natural aversion of travelers to having their baggage 
searched, or perhaps the natural desire to smuggle if pos- 
sible, that the greater part of the sum agreed upon was 
understood to be in consideration of the smartness of 
Hassan, in the bribery or circumvention of the Viceroy 
of Egypt. But the direct opposite of that which we de- 
sired and bargained for was the result. The Collector 
walked into the baggage-room with a lordly air and 
allowed himself to be bribed with the beggarly sum of 
one franc, when we had been assured that all Egyptian 
officials were absolutely incorruptible under five shillings 
English money. And what was still worse, after having 
been bribed, he was evidently determined to earn his 
money. The fact that we had bought him, was proof con- 
clusive to his mind that we were smugglers, and that our 
trunks were filled with contraband goods. It was neces- 
sary, therefore, for him to find the goods in order to show 
us that he was as good as his word and would let them 
pass. In vain was each trunk, one after the other, opened 
and probed to the very bottom. Not a thing was there ; 
and at last the noble African turned to us and inquired 
with wonder what was our objection to our trunks being 
opened if we had no goods that owed duty. By this time 
we began to ask ourselves the same question, Why attempt 
to evade the law when you are ail right and honest? Had 



134 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

the high-minded official found so much as a box of snuff 
in one of the trunks, sufficient to show us that he knew 
what he was conniving at, he would have immediately 
discontinued the search. But as it was, he opened all the 
trunks and carpet-bags, and detained us twice as long as 
he would have done had we opened them at the start, 
instead of the dishonest course we did pursue. 

There are two hotels in Alexandria frequented by 
strangers, the Hotel de FEurope, at which the Prince of 
Wales stopped some time, but I do not know when, and 
which has that important fact stated in enormous letters 
painted across its front, and the Peninsula and Oriental. 
The two houses stand on opposite sides of the Grand 
Square in the Frankish quarter, and are lively, if not 
cleanly caravansaries. We put up at the first named. It 
is three stories high, has no carpets nor bells ; has Arab 
waiters with bare legs ; has plenty of mosquitoes, and 
charges four dollars, or sixteen shillings English, per day. 
The travel overland from England to India, by way of 
the Red Sea, keeps these houses well filled with extremely 
transient customers. As at Aspinwall, the Alexandria 
of the Western world, passengers stop here only long 
enough to eat, or perhaps to sleep, while the steamer is 
getting ready for sea; 

Although it was long after dark when we had got set- 
tled at the hotel, we procured a dragoman, and sallied 
forth to see the place. The peculiar location of Alexan- 
dria, with reference to the overland transit, has given it 
probably the most thoroughly mixed class of population 
in the world. As we passed down the street, we could 
hear the English language spoken by an average of at 
least one man in ten that passed us. The mixed costumes 
of the Eastern type, worn by Egyptians, Turks, Greeks, 
Copts, and Jews that poured along the narrow, unpaved, 
and but half-lighted streets, were so varied, so queer, and 
so Oriental, that we were stopping in wonder at every 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



135 



step of the way. Public street-lamps are unknown, so 
that the crowd frequents the chief business thoroughfare, 
which has light from the interior of the shops. There 
being no sidewalks in the Egyptian quarter, the streets 
are usually filled to the center, and that part which in 
our country is used for sidewalks, is devoted to the pur- 
poses of trade. And here, sitting cross-legged, the tailor, 
the cobbler, and the barber, ply their busy occupa- 
tions. 

A commotion occurred just ahead of us as we strolled 
along, in which the loud voice of a coachman seemed to 
rise above all other sounds. Everybody in the street ran, 
as did we, to learn what was going on. The coachman 
was sitting on his box when we arrived, engaged in 
shouting at the top of his voice, and at the same time 
laying his whip about the head and shoulders of the peo- 
ple within reach as hard as he could drive.. Out of 
the tumult issued a coffin, borne on the shoulders of four 
men, and as they hurried out of reach of the furious cabby 
with the whip, the crowd seemed to fall into a sort of 
procession to follow it. It was a funeral party, and the 
coachman was in the very midst of it, thrashing the 
mourners with might and main. The solemn look of the 
long-robed pall-bearers, the velvet-covered coffin, with 
its silver-headed nails flashing by the light of the shop 
lamps, and the unseemly disturbance of the burial-ser- 
vice, combined to render the scene half horrible and half 
grotesque. " What is it all about ?" I demanded of 
Achmet, the name of our dragoman. " Dey going to bury 
the Jew," he answered. ci Coachman say one man scratch 
the carriage, and he goin' whip 'em. Nobody likee the 
Jew," Achmet continued, after having explained the cause 
of the row. It appeared that the coachman, with true 
Mussulman insolence, while driving through the funeral 
procession, fancied that one of the mourners touched his 
carriage in passing, and as they were Jews, he com- 



136 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



menced beating all that came within his reach, as a faith- 
ful Mussulman should and ought to do under the circum- 
stances. 

Leaving this, we followed our guide into an Arab 
coffee-house, and taking a seat called for coffee. All in 
the place were dressed in Eastern costume, but the 
arrival of our company in Frankish dress created no 
attention. ]STo liquors appeared to be sold here ; nothing 
but coffee and tobacco were ordered while we were in 
the place. It was a large room, or rather suite of rooms, 
leading the one into another by curtained doors. Divans 
were arranged around the rooms against the walls, but 
the chairs that were placed at the tables in the European 
style appeared to be the most used by the Orientals, as 
well as the Europeans. We saw no one sit upon the 
divans except a band of Arabian musicians, who sang 
and accompanied their rude voices by playing upon a sort 
of stringed instrument. Lazy-looking Turks from Stam- 
boul sat baring their arms upon the table, and dreaming 
over the great halt-gallon pipes or smoking bottles, called 
the nargileh. Gayly-dressed Syrian dragomans in flowing 
breeches and spangled jackets, watched us, and waited a 
chance to offer their services for a consideration. A 
half-dozen Circassians, once the loyal subjects of Schamil, 
but now faithful to the Czar, stalked about the room with 
their tall camel-skin hats, reminding one of the cheap 
lithographs of the equestrian adventures of Mazeppa, so 
often seen in American bar-rooms. Greek merchants, 
Jew money-changers, and Egyptian and Arabian men 
of all or no work, passing in and out, kept the place 
lively and picturesque with the changing and varied 
costumes of as many nationalities. We called for coffee, 
which was served to us in cups twice the size ol 
thimbles, thick with grounds, black and sweetened in 
advance. Arabian coffee is better in Eastern tale, or 
Oriental poetry, than in the mouth. It is not quite 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



137 



abominable stuff, but comes near to being worthy of such 
a descriptive epithet. 

In the morning we procured a carriage and went to 
see the monuments of ancient Alexandria, which are 
Pompey's Pillar and Cleopatra's Needle. In going to the 
Pillar we were obliged to pass by the Mecropolis or chief 
cemetery, which is close by. The great Mohammedan 
feast of the Ramadan was to commence the following day, 
and part of the ceremonies, it appears, were to take place 
in the burying-ground, in accordance with the custom of 
the people. Tombs in Egypt are ornamented with a low 
brick curb, painted in colors at the fancy of the friends. 
The place was filled with painters and whitewashes, 
giving each grave-stone a fresh coat for the coming holy- 
day. 

Pompey's Pillar stands on an eminence a quarter of a 
mile without the walls of the town. The hill upon 
which it stands is destitute of the smallest show of vege- 
tation, and covered with gravel and sandstones. But all 
around at the distance of a few hundred feet, the rich 
soil of Lower Egypt approaches it, covered with its 
never-fading coat of green and shaded with groves of 
date-trees. The narrow paths that approach the graceful 
monument, and along which the solemn camel and 
patient ass trudge beneath their heavy burden are bor- 
dered by the acacia and sycamore of Syria, famous in many 
a Bible story. There is no column more graceful or 
more perfect as to size and proportions in the whole 
world than this of Alexandria. It is enough to say, with- 
out attempting a description, that it was made when art 
was at its best in the Roman world, and that it leaves 
upon the mind of the beholder a lasting and most agree- 
able impression. After admiring for a moment the ex- 
quisite shape and polish of the column, which is about one 
hundred feet high, our eye was caught by the name of W. 
S. Thompson painted in letters a foot at least in size the 



13S GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

full length of the base. The ambitious Thompson has 
been more successful in gaining fame in this way than 
most travelers who scribble their name upon monuments 
or works of art, for his appears to have been painted 
on at considerable expense, and to have remained there 
for several years past. I have since seen photographs of 
the pillar with Mr. Thompson's name quite plainly re- 
peated thereon. Would it not be strange if in the course 
of time some industrious and learned archaeologist should 
discover, upon the occasion, perhaps of some fuller revival 
of learning, that the lofty monument on the seashore at 
Alexandria had been erected to the honor of one W. S. 
Thompson ? It would not be more wonderful as a matter 
of fact, or more humiliating to the memory of the real 
Simon Pure in honor of whom it was erected, than are 
the disputes and doubts that have so long perplexed the 
world as to the real history of the column. And I am 
not quite sure that if I had dropped down upon this 
place unassisted by the profound researches of the learned 
John Murray of London, that I should not have been, a 
year or two from now, some pleasant afternoon, enter- 
taining my friends at home with an exact description of 
Thompson's Pillar in Egypt. But there must be an end 
of all things terrene, and why not of Murray? And 
when he is gone, Thompson stands a better chance than 
Pompey, who has been ousted of the honor years ago, 
and quite as good as Diocletian, who just now seems to be 
uppermost in the struggle for the credit of the monument. 
In fact, his chances are better ; for he has his name on 
the thing too high up for the lazy Arabs to even reach it, 
which is by no means the case with Diocletian, who has 
not so much as a chalk-mark in his favor. There was a 
little party of twenty or thirty Arabs of all ages and 
both sexes standing about the base of the column or lying 
on the sand when we drove up. About half of them came 
lazily to the carriage door and offered for sale genuine 



SKETCHES OF TBAVEL. 139 

pieces of the pillar, which they all assured us in bad 
English they had just broken off with their own hands. 
Upon our refusing to be parties to the vandalism, the 
most of the curiosity merchants retired slowly to their 
nests in the sand. The rest hung about asking for 
41 backshish " on the ground of blindness or poverty. 

From Pompey's Pillar to Cleopatra's Needle is about 
five minutes' drive. There is standing but one of the obe- 
lisks that bear this name, the other not only being thrown 
down, but buried out of sight in the sand. This stands 
on the shore of the old harbor, withiu the town, and in- 
closed by the houses and walls of the neighborhood so as 
scarcely to be seen from the street while passing outside. 
A dirty-looking fellow opened the gate for us, and de- 
manded an indefinite amount of backshish for the privi- 
lege of entering, which we finally compromised upon the 
basis of one shilling for the party of four. Cleopatra's 
Needle is an obelisk of red granite, like all obelisks of 
Egypt, many of which may be seen in the cities of Eu- 
rope, especially Rome. Paris has one, the obelisk of 
Luxor, in the Place de la Concorde, almost precisely simi- 
lar in size and appearance with this. Rome has several as 
large, and one in the square in front of the Basilica of St. 
John LatCran, nearly double its size. The mate to this, now 
buried under the sands of Alexandria, was given by Ibra- 
him Pasha to the English government, which was ambi- 
tious of having one in London. But though this was 
many years ago, they have never removed it, and proba- 
bly never will. Cleopatra's Needle is seventy feet high, 
with a diameter at its base of seven feet eight inches. 
This monument, like Pompey's Pillar, has been sadly un- 
dermined by the rapacious Arabs in search of hidden 
wealth, and the still more rapacious European travelers 
in search of curiosities or relics, all of which must inevita- 
bly, within a few years, unless restrained, result in their 
overthrow; both of the monuments have their founda- 



140 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



tions already removed by this means to the extent of one- 
fourth or more. 

The great increase of travel from Europe to India over- 
land, as the journey by Suez and the Red Sea is called, 
keeps an enormous Frankish resident population at Alex- 
andria, besides the crowd that flocks through the place 
day after day to join the steamer for Aden and Bombay. 
Of the one hundred and ninety thousand people here, no 
less than eighty thousand are Europeans. And several 
hundreds must be constantly in the hotels or about the 
streets, in transitu from sea to sea. 

These generally employ the few hours' time spent at 
Alexandria in riding donkeys about the streets at a gallop, 
followed by a crowd of beggars and loafers shouting and 
laughing at the accidents or excesses, and begging for 
backshish. The first thing a young Anglo-Indian does, and 
the rule not unfrequently applies to old ones as well, is to 
purchase a Turkish fez or red skull-cap with a black silk 
tassel. This he slaps upon his head and wears day and 
and night, at meals and in the street, as long as it lasts. 
Then hiring a donkey, which here stand in droves ready 
saddled and for hire at every corner, he mounts him, and, 
followed by the donkey boy at a run, they set off at a tear- 
ing rate through the narrow streets. The boy shouts to 
clear the way, and beats the donkey from behind with a 
long stick. The rider, excited by the novelty of his situ- 
ation, shouts as loud as the boy, and thus they go at a 
grand gallop, often running over old women, knocking 
down egg-baskets or crockery stands that happen unluckily 
to be in the way; for a Mussulman, high or low, looks 
upon all events as inevitable, and foreordained by fate. 
To attempt to avoid any misfortune or casualty by prepa- 
ration never enters his head. They have also a pretty 
good opinion of the capacity and willingness of a Frank 
to pay damages, and are very adroit in making claim for a 
sufficient sum to cover all contingencies. So that to have an 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



141 



egg-basket smashed or an outside crockery shop broken 
up accidentally by a Frank, is often a good stroke of 
business for a whole month. 

The streets of Alexandria, like all in Egypt, are un- 
paved, with the exception of one in the Frankish quarter, 
upon which front the hotels and European shops. The 
native population appears to have no idea of pavements 
or sidewalks. The soft mud or soil bed of the streets are 
alike traversed, narrow as they are, by all on foot, on horse- 
back, on donkeys, on camels, and in carriages. And no 
part of the narrow pathway is understood to be specially 
devoted to any class or portion of the motley throng, 
human or inhuman, that squeeze their way through the 
streets of Alexandria. You start along the street, you 
attempt, perhaps, to keep next to the wall, but before 
you have advanced ten paces you find that a sedate Turk- 
ish merchant, in flowing robes, jogging along upon a 
donkey so small that nothing but his ears and hoofs can 
be seen, has in some manner got between you and your 
intended route, and that you are forced into the middle 
of the street. Here you find yourself surrounded by a 
mixed flock of sheep and goats, under the marshalship 
of a woman so closely veiled that you cannot tell whether 
or not she has passed beyond the age entitling her to the 
usual courtesies due to her sex. You get through this as 
well as you can, dodging carriages and trucks, to find 
yourself between two trains of camels laden with stone 
and sand, and going in opposite directions. They are 
fastened in a line, the one behind the other, with ropes, 
and tramp along with a solemn march, swinging like so 
many ships at sea, but as irresistible as a railway train. 
Six camels make a train nearly a hundred feet long, and 
are a half minute or more in passing. Getting clear of 
these Oriental monsters, you push on among crowds of 
men and women, mostly bearing burdens, some upon the 
head and some upon the back ; water-carriers with skins 



142 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



of that fluid over their shoulders made of the entire hide 
of a goat, the hair turned outside, and looking like a dead 
carcass of that animal ; peddlers, with jars or packs of 
various commodities, crying them to the public in the 
most clamorous manner. Working through this, some- 
times next the wall and more times in the middle of the 
street, you encounter a great drove of camels laden with 
green clover or perhaps cotton stalks for fuel, but piled 
so high up and extending so wide as to brush the houses 
on both sides the narrow street. Camels do not stop or 
get out of the way. One driver to every six or eight, 
and all tied in a row, they march along like the Macedo- 
nian phalanx. They are privileged characters, and the 
street must be cleared. The people step into the alleys 
or squat down, the carriages turn back, and the donkeys 
go I know not where. This was a mystery that remained 
to me unsolved all the time I stayed in Alexandria ; but 
go they do, somewhere, and the camels march on their 
way. When they have passed, as if by magic all car- 
riages, donkeys, donkey-boys and donkey-riders, water- 
carriers, blind women and blind men, and blind boys and 
girls, in a word, all Alexandria close up in the wake, as 
the waters close after the passing ship, and again the 
struggle is renewed to pass the streets of Alexandria. 

The stranger landing in Egypt is almost immediately 
struck with the great number of blind and half-blind people 
he sees in the public streets. It is not too much to say that 
every seventh native he meets is either totally blind or 
with but one eye. I made inquiry as to the cause, and 
was promptly informed by a dragoman that the Egyptian 
and Arabic mothers are in the habit of putting pins in one 
of the eyes of their children, when young, in order to 
produce partial blindness, and thus incapacitate them for 
service in the armies. But a little observation of the 
character of dragomans convinced me that, like couriers 
in Europe, they were the greatest liars without exception 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



143 



in the world, and that the statement was rather damaged 
than otherwise by coming from one of this class. The 
real cause can be quite sufficiently accounted for without 
resorting to this libel upon the office of maternity, and 
consequently upon the whole female sex. Ophthalmia is 
a prevailing disease in this country ; and the profession 
of physicians of learning is a Frankish institution, almost 
wholly unknown in Asia or Africa. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

MUSE EL KAHIKEH. 

Although Alexandria is situated at one of the numer- 
ous mouths of the Nile, and has, besides, a canal com- 
municating directly with Cairo, upon which the queer 
cross between the ancient trireme and the modern yacht, 
known here as Nile-boat, ply between the two places as 
often as enough passengers present themselves to make 
it an object to sail, yet we did not go to Cairo by water. 
It was not, however, from any disrespect to that noble 
stream, nor from any want of appreciation of the able 
authors of various countries, who have described such 
travel as being so delightful, but for the simple and un- 
romantic reason that a train of cars left Alexandria station 
each morning at eight o'clock, and in four hours and a half 
put down its load within gunshot of the site of the corn- 
cribs of Joseph — equally near to the citadel and mosque 
of Mehemet Ali — that is to say, at Shepheard's Hotel, in 
Cairo. 

From Alexandria the railway runs southeast, crossing 
directly without the city the Lake of Mareotis, and im- 
mediately after enters the rich valley of the Nile, flat as 
the valley of the Mississippi, and not unlike it in appear- 
ance. For an hour or more, as the train flies along, the 
line of the canal can be traced from the car window by 
the masts of the boats that are rowed or sail slowly up 
or down its sluggish waters. Occasionally we came near 
enough to see one of these rude floats, looking large and 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



145 



uncouth enough to pass for Xoah's Ark, and being drawn 
by the crew, who were out on the bank, harnessed to- 
gether by a rope, like so many mules on an American 
canal. Passing the Rosetta branch and the delta, we 
were enabled to judge with our own eyes of the richness 
of the land that tempted Jacob to deliver himself and his 
seed into the hands of Pharaoh. The floods, which 
finally subside in October, had left the soil bountifully 
enriched, and the young crop of wheat was waving over 
the valley as far as the eye could see. Occasionally the 
perfect carpet of green was relieved by a break of dry 
cotton stalks of the preceding year, that had not yet been 
removed, showing how the Egyptians had gained by the 
dissensions that had made Americans such losers. Soon 
we passed the Damietta branch, and were on the south 
side of the Xile. And just here the tops of the pyramids 
tipped the horizon to the southwest. The queer bakers 
oven villages of the Egyptians, the mixed flocks of buf- 
faloes and goats, the laden camels and asses, trudging 
along the roads or plowing side by side, fastened to the 
same rude limb, were no longer noticed, but every eye 
was bent upon the monument that had been gazed upon 
alike by Herodotus and Moses and Napoleon the Great — 
one of the seven wonders of the ancients — the unsolved 
riddle of the moderns — the Pyramid of Cheops. 

At two o'clock we were at the station haggling with 
the hackmen and swearing; at the basrsacre-carriers of 

D OO O 

Cairo. There are two or three hotels kept for the enter- 
tainment of European travelers at this place, each vying 
with the other for filth, discomfort, and high prices. Some 
years ago, a man named Shepheard had sense enough to 
know that it would pay to treat even strangers tolerably 
well, and had thereby made for himself a competency, and 
for the house he kept a name that serves to draw to it 
the bulk of the custom. I wish Shepheard had not been 
quite so prosperous, and had remained in the hotel busi- 



146 GOING TO JERIGEO; OB, 



ness till I got along to Egypt ; for his successor, a Hun- 
garian, whose name, though immaterial, is Zech, got hold 
of me, fed me upou bad buffalo and goat's flesh, lodged 
me in unclean beds, and charged me four dollars a day. 
May he remain the balance of his days in the land of 
Egypt, and that they may be long, is the worst wish I 
have for Mr. Zech of Hungary. 

The Peninsula and Oriental Steamship Company have a 
hotel now completed at Suez and kept in good style by 
an Englishman. They will soon have one at Cairo. The 
first story of stone, large and substantial, is now nearly 
completed; and Mr. Zech of Hungary must make his 
harvest or change his management within the next 
year. 

The great Mohammedan feast of the Ramadan, con- 
tinuing for three days, was going on when we arrived at 
Alexandria, and this was the last of it. The American 
consul-general, Mr. Hale, as well as the whole foreign 
diplomatic corps, had come up by special train the night 
before to pay their respects to the viceroy. Good Mus- 
sulmans, dressed in clean clothes and new yellow morocco 
shoes — the pair that was, in some manner, to last the 
most of them for the whole year — were parading their bare 
unstockinged legs about the streets, or smoking pipes of 
strange and complicated devices, or solemnly sipping 
black coffee from cups no larger than thimbles, at the 
doors of the little shops all through the town. Infantile 
true-believers were even more plentiful than aged. These 
were in great glee — it was their Christmas ; and each 
appeared fully impressed that the day would come but 
once in the year. Some had fire-crackers, which they let 
off one at a time, and not, as with us, in whole bunches. 
Others were assembled in the open squares, where wheels 
were erected, upon which twenty or thirty at a time 
could roll over and over, while the balance shouted and 
screamed, or threw stones at Christians, or diverted 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



147 



themselves in some such innocent manner while waiting 
their turns to swing. 

As soon as we had partaken of the lunch furnished by 
Mr. Zech of Hungary, we set out to see the sights of 
Cairo. Mr. Stickney, the General, and the author, and 
the wife of each, with Mr. Kendall and Master Stickney, 
swelled our party to a degree that it was a nice catch for 
a dragoman to make money out of. Wheeled carriages 
are more modern to Cairo than steamboats on the Colo- 
rado River. The originators of the town of Cairo never 
dreamed of such a thing, and therefore made no provi- 
sion for them. There are only about two streets in the 
place through which a hack can be driven, and in all but 
one they can not pass each other except at certain 
wide points. Yet they had made their way hither. In 
front of Shepheard's hotel stand from morning till night 
a half dozen open two-horse barouches, to be let gener- 
ally at five dollars a day. But this was Ramadan, and 
the price had advanced to twenty dollars. Just our luck, 
we alPthought and said. Under these peculiarly distress- 
ing circumstances one hack was engaged, into which the 
ladies were placed, and the gentlemen followed behind 
upon donkeys. 

The donkey, and his driver, the donkey-boy, like the 
camel, the mosque, and the turban, are institutions that 
mark and peculiarize the East. There is no correspond- 
ing institution in Western Europe and America. The 
cab approaches nearer to it than any other, but lacks its 
cheapness, its independence, and its adaptation to all 
classes and positions in life. The grand seigneur of the 
West can not call his cab and drive about town without 
losing caste. He must have his private dog-cart or 
bugiry, with driver and tiger in livery. But in Cairo, 
all, from the poorest seller of herbs by the corner of the 
bazaar to the pasha himself, go galloping about, when 
occasion requires, on the everlasting donkey. There is a 



148 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

donkey-stand at every square or street turn, by all the 
hotels, and in front of the mosques, where these clever 
little animals are kept at all times ready saddled and 
bridled for hire. Each donkey is commanded by a boy 
of between en and fifteen years of age, who cares for the 
animal, hires him out, and who, upon his being mounted, 
runs after him with a stick, shouting and beating him 
into the required degree of speed. In Cairo I have found 
these little fellows especially bright and active. They 
speak several languages, generally excelling in English. 
There is absolutely no end to their endurance and good 
humor. They will take the carpet-bag, or even the small 
trunk, of a gentleman on their heads, and, lashing the 
donkey into a gallop, keep up with him for a mile or two ; 
unladen, as is the usual way, they will follow at a run all 
day, chatting or gossiping with the rider or shouting to 
the donkey, occasionally stopping to throw a stone at a 
dog or a Christian, or to ask a question of another boy, 
and, with a whoop and a yell, overtaking him again in a 
manner that is wonderful to behold. The donkey appears 
to consider the boy as a part of himself, without which 
he can not and will not go on. A traveler would have 
about as good a chance to make a reasonable speed in a 
train without a fireman to the locomotive as on a donkey 
without his regular driver. 

The boys know pretty well who all the strangers are 
that come to town. When we stepped out to look for 
donkeys, a dozen at least declared themselves the pos- 
sessor of that wonderful and unparalleled donkey Yankee 
Doodle. " Are you going to ride Yankee Doodle to-day ?" 
they demanded all in a breath. " He is in good order 
and can carry you to every part of Cairo in an hour." 
How that wonderful animal got to Egypt we did not 
learn, but the name is extremely popular with the donkey- 
boys. I did not take Yankee Doodle, but mounted a 
little animal used to the saddle, and driven by a black- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 149 



eyed fellow of twelve years. Down the great garden in 
front of the hotel we drove, or rather were driven after 
the hack, at a great pace. From this to the Frankish 
bazaar so many tumbles occurred that one or another of 
us was off the most of the time. Here we entered the 
little narrow passage called, by Europeans, streets, and 
were obliged to settle down to a sober walk. 

If I should fill this entire volume with attempted de- 
scriptions of a street scene in Cairo, still the reader would 
form but an inadequate idea of this, the queerest of all 
combinations of place and people on the face of the earth. 
If all New York should resolve to get up a masquerade 
and spend a year in preparation, it would fail to equal one 
bazaar in motley Cairo. To begin, the thoroughfares in 
Oriental cities are not, nor were they ever intended to be, 
the counterpart of the street as known in the West. Few 
in Cairo are over ten feet wide, and many are under five. 
The houses are built with vertical walls to the height of 
the first story, when timbers are projected over the street 
for four feet or more, and the walls again carried up from 
this point, so that at the top the windows and eaves meet 
across the thoroughfare. Where they do not quite shut 
out the sun's rays, as is the case with a passage a little 
wider than usual, poles are put across from one house to 
the other, and rush mats laid on so as to make an awning 
quite across the street. Under this crowds of people of 
all colors and classes, droves of goats and sheep, and long 
lines of camels and donkeys, pick their way from morning 
till night. 

The shops are simply little dens six feet square, with 
the floors raised two or three feet from the ground. Here 
the merchant sits cross-legged, pipe in mouth and beads 
in hand, apparently not engaged in trade or even think- 
ing of such a thing. It appears to be the remotest sub- 
ject from his thoughts. Slowly he puffs his pipe, his eyes 
half shut. At intervals a bead is seen to pass from one 



150 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



hand along the string to the other, marking the fact that 
one more orison has been offered to Allah, or one more 
assertion of the dogma that Mohammed alone is his 
prophet. You stop in front of his little establishment 
and look at his goods, bat without evoking the slightest 
recognition of your existence. You pick up and handle 
a pair of shoes or a pipe, according to his occupation, but 
still he does not know that you have left the land of the 
Gaiour, much less that you are actually among true 
believers and in his sanctified presence. You lay down 
the article and pass on to the next. He appears still 
occupied with his pipe or with his devotions, and knows 
as little of your departure as of your arrival. Passing to 
the next shop in the bazaar, you perhaps see the proprietor 
rise upon his feet, and expect him to offer you his goods. 
But such is not the case, for no sooner has he reached his 
full height, his head extending quite up to the ceiling of 
the little raised den, and his person concealing, like a 
door, the interior of the establishment, than he comes 
down upon his knees and elbows, pressing his forehead 
against the outer edge of his floor four times, and utter- 
ing some solemn sentence in Arabic. He is engaged at 
prayer, and no business need be mentioned to him till 
this duty is performed. Meantime the great throng of 
human and brute creatures forced through the little pas- 
sage-way not wide enough for one-twentieth of the 
number in either portion, is jostling, swearing, and shout- 
ing past the prayerful Mussulman. Waiting till he has 
finished, you approach, and ask to look at an article. 
Without uttering a syllable, and without removing his 
pipe from between his lips, he takes down from the wall 
every portion of which is within reach from his seat, the 
merchandise inquired after, and places it in your hand. 
If it does not suit and you give it back to him, or if the 
price is demanded and proves unsatisfactory, it is replaced 
on the wall and you move on your way, no word of soli- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



151 



citation, request, or banter proceeding from the devout 
and dignified merchant of Cairo. 

The narrow streets of Cairo do not lead to as much 
contention and bad blood among passers as one might 
suppose. The inhabitants do not know what convenient 
thoroughfares are, and consequently have been all their 
lives accustomed to look upon streets as one of the great- 
est crosses of city existence. I never saw or heard of a 
native taking offense at being stopped in his course by 
another on horseback or on foot, or at being jostled by 
another in passing. I, in company with my friends, all 
mounted on donkeys, have stopped frequently in streets 
of four feet in width for half an hour at a time, making 
purchases at some little shoe or pipe shop. During the 
delay, all business on both sides of the bazaar, for a dozen 
doors up and down, would be brought to a complete 
stand-still. Men, women and children, goats, donkeys, 
and even horses, coming that way, would either squeeze 
by, turn back, or wait in a crowd for us to finish, and all 
without a murmur of disapprobation either from the pub- 
lic or the merchants whose trade was affected. The reason 
is obvious. Each feels this to be an inconvenience com- 
mon to all. Your donkey stops me to-day; to-morrow 
mine will in like manner delay you. 

And the donkey here appears to be, of all animals, 
the most thoroughly privileged in his movements. He 
trudges along the broadest country roads with the camel 
and the horse ; he enters the narrowest bazaar, from 
which dogs, Jews, and Oriental Christians are excluded. 
He, with impunity, rubs against the rich garment of the 
effendi or the flowing robe of the dervish, when either of 
the others would be kicked and spit upon for presuming 
to defile their betters with unclean contact. And the 
sagacious little brute appears too wise to presume upon 
his position. He works his way through the crowded 
bazaars, lifting his dainty little feet over piles of oranges, 



152 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



eggs, or brown loaves, spread out for sale, squeezing 
among the rich and poor that pass, stepping gingerly 
over the babies that lie about as plentifully as leaves in 
Valambrosa, respecting and respected by all. 

Cairo is situated on tbe east side of the Nile, at a 
point where the mountains or hill-country of the desert 
approaches to within a distance of three or four miles 
of the river. The city is built on the valley below. 
On the point of the hill overlooking the town stands the 
citadel, and quite near to this the Mosque of „ Mehemet 
Ali. Though there are no less than four hundred mosques 
in Cairo, this, more than all the others, imparts to it the 
peculiar appearances of an Oriental city. Standing upon 
the brow of a lofty hill, with its half-score of domes, and 
its two delicate minarets almost piercing the clouds, the 
Mosque of Mehemet Ali can be seen many leagues up 
and down the beautiful river which it overlooks. It was 
to this mosque that we paid our first visit. It is gener- 
ally forbidden in Mohammedan countries for a Christian, 
or, in fact, an unbeliever, to enter the sacred precincts of 
a mosque. But old Mehemet Ali possessed a wisdom 
beyond his day and generation. When he erected this 
beautiful edifice it was followed by a perpetual decree 
against the barbarous bigotry of his people. He ordered 
that this should be open to the visitors of all nations. 

Alighting from our donkeys, and giving them into the 
hands of about a dozen ragged urchins, dressed each in one 
single shirt, we stopped to exchange our shoes for straw 
slippers, that are kept for hire, and put on the visitor at 
the door like so many skates at a New York skating 
establishment. Stepping into the mosque, several of us 
out of respect removed our hats, but were speedily re- 
minded that no greater insult can be given to a Mohamme- 
dan than to uncover the head in the sacred places where 
he worships. This, like all mosques, is interesting to 
civilized people, not because of its beauty or richness of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



153 



ornament, but because of its peculiar architecture and use. 
There are no buildings in the East to be compared to the 
gorgeous cathedrals or even the fine churches of Italy, 
Spain, or Germany. 

The Koran having forbidden the fabrication of any 
sort of images of dead or living things, no statuary or 
paintings adorn the somber walls of the Oriental mosque. 
The grotesque carving of impossible plants anc^ animals 
known as arabesque, is but a poor substitute for the 
marvelous creations of Raphael and Correggio, to be 
found on the walls of the Western churches. There is 
nothing in a Mohammedan mosque worthy of special 
account or description. They are all alike. The entire 
interior is generally thrown into one large room without 
furniture and without ornament. There is not so much 
as an altar to designate one part being more sacred than 
another. The walls are either bare stone, or covered with 
very coarse straw matting. And here the faithful come, 
each one alone, and perform their devotional exercises. 
This is as simple as the interior of the edifice in which 
it is carried on. The Mussulman bends upon his knees, 
facing Mecca, and repeats his creed : " There is no God 
but God, and Mohammed is the Prophet of God." Then 
he touches the floor with his forehead four times. There 
were not over half a dozen at prayers while we remained. 

Passing through the mosque, we came out upon the 
citadel which overlooks the city, the valley of the Nile, 
and the great desert of Sahara, extending away to the 
westward beyond. Right at our very feet, along the 
foot of the mountain, to the right and left, lay Cairo, 
with her four hundred mosques, the domes all spark- 
ling in the afternoon sun. To the east we could see 
the obelisks of Heliopolis. On the other side, looking 
across the river, we faced Ghizeh, an Egyptian village, 
with its oven-roofed houses, and still beyond, the pyra- 
mids lift their points above the groves of sycamore and 
7* 



154 GOING TO JERICRO; OR, 



palm trees that lay between Ghizeh and the borders of 
the desert. 

Our dragoman was full of the mamaluke massacre that 
occurred on the spot in 1811, and would permit us to 
look at nothing until we had seen the place where Emir 
Bey, one of the doomed mamalukes had saved his life by 
jumping his horse over the wall into the city below. It 
was indeed a fearful leap. The massacre occurred in the 
great court-yard or esplanade in the center of the citadel. 
At one place the hill, upon the very brow of which the 
fortress is situated, is so steep that no wall is necessary 
for the purpose of defence. It is now not less than one 
hundred feet down to the street that is level with the city 
below, and is said to have been much filled up since the 
time of the massacre. A low parapet was built along 
this place as a sort of balustrade, and over this, when the 
terrible fire of the janizaries of Mehemet Ali was pour- 
ing into the ranks of his comrades, the gallant Emir 
plunged with his steed. It appeared to be simply a 
choice as to the mode of death. But his boldness met 
with its reward, and he escaped. 

The circumstances of the massacre were these : Mehe- 
met Ali was absent at Suez, attending to the embai'kation 
of troops on his expedition against the Wahabees, who 
had driven the Turks from the Holy Land of Arabia — 
Mecca and Medina. While he was there he was informed 
that the mamalukes had laid a plan for his assassination 
while on his return across the desert. Instead of remain- 
ing at Suez till the next day, as was expected, this 
Egyptian Napoleon started for Cairo that night on a 
dromedary. In ten hours he had traveled the eighty 
miles between the two places, and with four out of his 
eighteen attendants, was in his capital. From that day 
he was resolved on the destruction of the mamaluke 
chiefs. The day fixed for the investing of Toosoom 
Pasha, his son, with the command of the armv, was 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 155 



fixed for the first of March, 1811. All the principal 
chiefs of the mamalukes were invited to be present. 
"When the ceremony was concluded, the mamalukes 
mounted their horses and approached the gates, but found 
them closed. The place is admirably adapted for such 
an enterprise. A large court-yard surrounded by high 
walls that overlook and command every part within rifle 
range. A suspicion flashed on the minds of the devoted 
band that treachery was meant, and for some minutes 
they rode at the top of speed from one side of the square 
to the other. Then followed a flash of fire from every 
part of the impregnable wall, and the work of death was 
commenced. It never ceased till all but one of the four 
hundred and fifty chiefs present, with Ibrahim Bey, the 
commander, had bit the dust of the pasha's citadel. A 
proclamation was then issued to exterminate all in the 
city, and in pursuance of this order four hundred more 
were killed. 

Before returning home we visited the Mosque of Sultan 
Hassan, said to be one of the oldest Moslem structures 
in the world. There is nothing peculiar about it except 
that the exterior is an imitation of the Kaaba, at Mecca, 
and that the whole is built of material taken from the 
Pyramid of Cheops. 

Cairo, called by the Arabians 3fusr, claims four hun- 
dred thousand inhabitants, and in the Mohammedan 
world is second only to Constantinople. It is the capital 
of Egypt, that is to say, it is the principal residence of 
the pasha, as the viceroy is called, and the seat of his 
government. Here, travelers going up the Nile hire 
their dragomans and purchase their outfit. Engagements 
with these people are generally so made that the drago- 
man stands in the light of a contractor for every thing 
connected with the voyage, from subsistence and trans- 
portation down to backshish. He furnishes tents, pro- 
visions, and horses. His cooks cook for the party, his 



156 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



servants wait upon it, and his soldiers protect it. They 
generally stop a few hours enjoying themselves in eating 
oranges, wearing red hats, and scampering about on 
donkeys. Cairo is the Panama of the Overland route, 
as Alexandria is the Aspinwall, and the resemblance is 
not inconsiderable. Many travelers also hire their drago- 
mans for the Syrian trip at Cairo. The dragomans come 
all the way from Beyrout and Jaffa to meet the travelers 
and get engagements of this description. The dragoman 
finds it to his interest to meet the howadji at Cairo and 
make there his bargain, the reason being that in Egypt 
it costs each traveler to board and go about the country 
about ten dollars per day. In Syria the same traveler 
finds it difficult to spend over five dollars. When a smart 
fellow presents himself to the outraged guest at Shep- 
heard's hotel with a proposition to convey him, board 
him, and show him the sights of the Holy Land for the 
sum of seven dollars and a half a day, all inclusive, he is 
hailed as a benefactor sent from heaven. The trade is 
speedily closed, and the traveler finds, upon arriving at 
Jerusalem, that he is paying out about two or three dol- 
lars per day for nothing. 

Like all Eastern cities, Cairo is divided up into different 
quarters for the residence of the various populations. 
Each of them is separated from the other by a wall, the 
gate of which is locked at night. There is the " Copts' 
quarters," the " Jews' quarters," and the " Franks' 
quarters." By the latter name all Europeans, and of 
course, Americans, are known. Both here and at Alexan- 
dria there are no public lamps. But every person going 
abroad after nightfall, is obliged by law to carry a lamp. 
Especially the keepers of the gates leading from one quar- 
ter to another, refuse in all cases to open to one passing 
without a lamp. But they are obliged to open to one 
with a light at any and all times of the night. 

In addition to this division of the population into three 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



157 



respective quarters, all professions, trades, and occupa- 
tions are placed in like manner in streets or passages to 
themselves, Avhich go by the name of Bazaars. One 
street will have all pipe-shops, another all hats or caps, a 
third all shoemakers or tobacco dealers, seive-makers, 
millers and bakers, all in their little quarters, and all to- 
gether. No shop is over six or eight feet square, and the 
stock of goods can be carried home in a hand-basket by 
the wealthiest merchant. The Orientals are very fond 
of perfumes of all kinds, and especially the otto of roses. 

Directly that we arrived in Cairo all our party were 
seized with the mania for purchasing articles as souvenirs, 
it being a sort of general impression that no other visitor 
to those parts had ever thought of such a thin^. I am 
now perfectly satisfied that no American or European 
traveler ever came to the East, without not only thinking 
of it, but actually doing all the foolish things in this re- 
spect that we did. The Turkish merchants who are 
generally in this trade are aware of this weakness in the 
Frankish nature, and are ready to profit by it. About 
the center of the city there is a long, low, covered passage- 
way, about as large and as high as the hall to a small two- 
story house in America. It branches in many directions, 
and extends to an indefinite distance under the houses 
and around the mosques of Cairo. This is the perfumery 
bazaar. It has, like the other bazaars, its little shops, the 
size of an ordinary packing-box dug out of the side of the 
wall, the floor being about four feet from the ground. 
In the foreground of this little establishment the Stamboul 
merchant sits with his pipe in his mouth, and his Moham- 
medan rosary in his hand, looking as if half asleep, but 
really pretty wide awake to the main chance. Here we 
made our way and bought vials of otto of roses, each 
seated upon his donkey while the negotiation was carried 
on between the perfume merchant and our dragoman. 

Not far from the perfumery bazaar is the Jews' quar- 



158 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



ter. We rode through this on our donkeys after leav- 
ing the perfume shop, emitting as we went a strong but 
mixed odor of otto of roses, sandal wood, hyacinth, and 
other but unnamable smells. I am sure that we collected 
more of the real essence of rose upon our clothing while 
in the perfumery shop than we purchased in the small 
vials. The Jews' bazaar is wider than the perfumery 
bazaar by several inches at least. Two donkeys can pass 
in this, which they can not do in the emporium of sweet 
smells. The Jews' bazaar is devoted entirely to the little 
benches of money-changers. Each dealer sits in his little 
box in the street or just within the hole dug out of the 
wall. He has before him his pile of copper money, which 
is here .the most active commodity in the way of 
exchanges, and in his hand a pair of gold scales. No 
sooner had we entered the street than a dozen voices sung 
out to us, " Change money, signor, 1 ' "change the money !" 
But we wanted no change, and rode on. This was the 
cleanest street we saw in Cairo, and the dealers the best 
dressed and most prosperous looking. The persistence 
of the children of Israel in following commerce instead of 
any sort of manual labor is as noticeable in Alexandria 
and Cairo as it is in New York or San Francisco. 

In Alexandria, and again in Cairo, I heard the cry of 
the auctioneer more than once. In each case, on draw- 
ing near the place of the sale, I found that it proceeded 
from a Jew Cheap John, engaged in selling clothing, just 
as it is done to-day in New York, with the difference that 
in Alexandria the outcry was made in the mixed Italian 
and French with which natives and foreigners converse, 
while at Cairo the business was being done in pure Arabic. 
The Hebrew is such a cosmopolitan that he knows all 
languages and all men. In Cairo the original Jacob of 
the Bowery plies his noisy vocation in the long robes and 
turban, the wide trousers and yellow slippers of the East. 
He looks and talks more like the Turk than the Turk 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



159 



does himself — the only difference is that he is a little 
cleaner and brighter looking. In the Bowery he is seen 
in the strapped-down trousers, the long fur hat and queer 
coat of the universal Yankee, and quite his equal in 
sharpness, in energy, and perseverance. 

The last day of the feast of the Ramadan we were 
invited to attend the religious dance of the strange sect 
or society, for I do not know precisely what to call them, 
of dervishes. The room was large, and evidently fitted 
up and kept for the express purpose of the dance. It 
was circular in form, with a diameter of not less than 
fifty feet. The place was lighted from a sort of dome 
raised above the center of the room, and a handsome gal- 
lery encircled the whole pavilion. A railing fenced the 
lobby off from the center or ball-room, if it be proper to 
so designate that part directly under the dome where the 
dance was performed. When we reached the place but 
few spectators had arrived, nor did enough at any time 
appear to fill the lobby or even the front of it quite around 
the railing. The dervishes, about twenty-five in number, 
were seated on the floor jnst within and around the center 
railing, silent as if in some sort of devotion. We were 
provided with seats directly that we came in, by an attend- 
ant, and waited a half hour before the active exercises 
commenced. At this time, a signal was given by the 
High Priest, when all rose upon their feet and began to 
march around the room within the railing, making a low 
obeisance to that functionary each time they passed him. 
After continuing this for five minutes or more, another 
signal was given, when plaintive music, consisting of an 
Arabian guitnr, accompanied by several voices, was heard 
proceeding from the gallery above. At this, each dervish 
threw off his dark cloak, appearing in dancing costume, 
and the services commenced. This costume consisted of 
a long frock wilh tight body and sleeves, color according 
to taste, but yellow and red predominating ; a hat of felt, 



160 GOING TO JERICHO; Oil, 

looking exactly like an earthen flower-pot turned over the 
head, and generally with no shoes. As each one threw 
off the outside cloak, he swung slowly and gracefully into 
the dance. This is done by extending the arms at full 
length from and at right angles with the body, the head 
dropped over upon one side, and the body made to girate 
as in waltzing without a partner. From long practice they 
get to be most perfect in this exercise, all turning at about 
the same rate and maintaining their exact position on the 
floor relatively to the other. They turned at the rate of 
about forty times to the minute, but so gracefully and 
evenly was it done that it appeared to be much slower. 
As it was, each long frock swelled out to the regular 
motion like a swinging bell. Each dancer turned upon 
his place in the floor as upon a pivot, and so they turned 
slowly but surely around the room, keeping their relative 
places as exactly as we may presume the planets keep 
their positions in the solar system. For an hour they 
swung round and round in this monotonous devotion, until 
at last a signal was given, and all, coming to a dead stop, 
took their seats, were covered with their black robes, and 
the meeting broke up. 

The dancers were young and good-looking fellows, 
none being over twenty-five years. They were all of 
Arabic or Egyptian complexion, that is to say, of a brown 
or dark-olive color, excepting one young fellow, who 
possessed the black skin, flat nose, and kinky hair of the 
Nubian or Guinea negro. Unfortunately for Sambo he 
was a little bent in the legs, and his ankle, if at all out of 
the way, was subject to the suspicion of being set into 
his foot just the least trifle in the world too far forward. 
This, I thought affected his perfect balance, and I am 
forced to confess, that he was the poorest dancer of the 
lot. If the admission should wholly defeat reconstruction 
on the congressional plan, still the truth must be spoken. 

We went to the palace and grounds of Shoobra though 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 161 



heartily tired of visiting palaces in Europe, to see what 
the East could produce in this very hackneyed line of 
sights. The palace is on the east bank of the Nile, four 
miles below Cairo. The road leading to it must have 
filled the Egyptians with wonder from the day of its 
opening. It is no less than one hundred and twenty feet 
in width, and planted on each side with magnificent 
acacia and sycamore trees. They were planted by 
Mehemet Ali in his lifetime, the palace having also been 
built by that prince. Its peculiar character is produced by 
the attempt to build an European palace for the comfort 
of an Oriental harem. It is situated in the center of an 
elegant garden, and consists of a covered corridor in- 
closing a lake of water three hundred feet square and 
eight or ten feet deep. The corridor fronts on each 
side of this square sheet of water. Along the open porch 
are arranged rich couches for those who desire to sit, 
while the more active may amuse themselves by riding 
up and down in wheeled vehicles turned by hand, in the 
nature of velocipedes and wheeled horses. In the foun- 
tains are several boats where others can sport and row 
races with the people on the little wagons in the corridor. 
At each corner is a room, in one of which stands a 
billiard table of handsomely mosaicked wood but with so 
indifferent a cushion that no newsboy in America would 
condescend to play a single game on it for the wager of 
a cheap cigar. In the same room is a fine portrait of 
Mehemet Ali in his Egyptian dress, and seated cross-leg- 
ged on a divan. All the furniture, the upholstery and 
carpets of the palace are of French make, and yet the 
whole place looks tawdry and uncomfortable. 

The garden is filled with handsome shrubbery, but is 
sadly neglected. I looked with great care to find if pos- 
sible some tree or shrub that would be new in California, 
but saw not so much as one that I had not seen in San 
Francisco gardens, the date alone excepted. And here 



162 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



let me say that there is no tree or shrub that can be pro- 
duced in Italy, Spain, or Egypt that will not grow 
equally well in our own favored climate. The date-tree 
flourishes as far north as Nice, and at Rome, a climate 
much colder in winter than San Francisco, it grows beau- 
tifully. The orange and the pomegranate grow in Italy 
in climates much colder than either San Francisco, or 
Sacramento, and there is no reason why the valley of the 
Sacramento even should not abound with this fruit. As 
for the date, there can be no question that this beautiful 
tree, the most graceful and most characteristic of all 
Oriental growth, would grow to its full height in any of 
our valleys. I hope some gentleman will demonstrate 
this, and add this beautiful palm to the California scenery. 
The time will come, and that not many years hence, when 
every one of the trees I have named, and many others 
that are now considered strictly tropical, will ornament 
the valleys that border San Francisco Bay. 



CHAPTER XIV. 



THE PYRAMIDS. 

I have visited the pyramids twice since arriving in 
Egypt, and would like to go as many times more if I had 
time to do so. They are within plain view of Cairo, and 
one would think them easily reached. But, for that 
matter, so they are in plain view of the whole country 
around for many leagues in every direction. Napoleon's 
bulletin to his troops at the great Egyptian battle, telling 
them that "forty centuries looked down upon them, 1 ' 
would fix the location of the encounter with considerable 
accuracy; but, in future ages, unless some more certain 
monument is established than the fact that it occurred in 
sight of the pyramids, the curious will search for the bat- 
tle-field doubtingly over an area of fifty miles or more. 

Our party consisted of eight persons, of whom four were 
ladies. A day's notice was given to the dragoman to get 
his supplies and transportation in readiness for an early 
start. A carriage had to be got to take the ladies as far 
as Old Cairo, three miles distant, in order to reduce the 
amount of donkey-riding as much as possible. Donkeys 
had to be taken for the whole party, from Cairo all the 
way, and beside these, extra animals for luncheon and 
servant. At seven o'clock all were up, had taken break- 
fast, and were on the porch of the hotel in readiness. In 
the East a Frank cannot move from one part of the town 
to another without being surrounded by a little swarm 
of unnecessary servants. It is the great plague of Ori- 



164: GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



ental travel. Venture ten feet from your hotel, aoid you 
find yourself followed or accompanied by a half dozen 
volunteer dragomans. They go along without request- 
or leave, but with the intention of asking for compensa- 
tion at the close of the walk. You may tell them that 
you do not want them, but without avail ; they simply 
drop behind and follow you. If you stop to make a pur- 
chase, they step forward and either act as interpreters or 
remain silent. In either case, after you are gone they 
return and claim and receive of the tradesman a share of 
the profits in the shape of a commission. 

Our traveling establishment to the pyramids proved to 
be as simple as it was possible to make one from Cairo, 
and was as follows: one barouche for the ladies, drawn 
by two horses, with driver on the box, and preceded by 
boy to clear the way ; eight saddle donkeys, four to con- 
vey the gentlemen the whole distance, and four to be 
mounted by the ladies at Ghizeh ; eight donkey-boys, to 
run after the donkeys and work them up to the requisite 
speed ; from four to six mules, laden in some mysterious 
manner witli what we could not learn, but understood to 
be in some way connected with our lunch ; fifteen or 
twenty volunteers going along as friends of the donkey- 
boys, but for the real purpose of begging from the party 
under one pretense or another ; and finally, over all, one 
dragoman, clothed in gorgeous Syrian costume, wide 
trousers and embroidered jacket, as commander-in-chief. 
This important personage rode upon a mule. 

To get such an army under way is no ordinary achieve- 
ment. But it was done successfully. At eight o'clock 
we filed along the wall of the great garden, and took the 
road to Old Cairo. The establishment filled up the way 
to the absolute exclusion of all passers except pashas and 
camels, for more than a quarter of a mile. The road 
from Cairo to the pyramids passes through a country in- 
describably rich and beautiful. It is one continuous Ori- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



165 



ental garden, sprouting, growing, and blossoming, from 
the soil of the Nile valley. Date-trees, not singly as in 
Italy, nor in twos and threes as in Spain, but in whole 
groves and forests, such as can be seen only here in 
Egypt, shade the earth for miles in every direction, grow- 
ing with a luxuriousness of foliage equaling the gorgeous 
thickets of Panama. Yast trees of cactus hedging in 
orange groves, the yellow fruit on bush and earth beneath, 
almost increasing and tinting the light of the sun that 
struggles through the matted branches. Through this 
garden country runs the wide road to Old Cairo. And 
along this crowd the throngs of laden asses and camels 
that bring to the city the daily supplies of fruit and vege- 
tables for the human, and fresh cut clover for the animal 
population. Hay and wagons are unknown in Egypt. 
And all the tens of thousands of asses that carry, of goats 
that feed, and camels that wait upon the four hundred 
thousand people of the capital, are subsisted upon green 
clover cut fresh every morning, and borne upon asses and 
camels to the great market-place for sale. The road is 
at least one hundred feet wide, but it is filled all daylong 
with this slow moving procession of clover carriers. 

Just without the city we met the carriage of the pasha 
coming in, preceded by his two "forerunners" to clear 
the way, and followed by guards on foot and on horse- 
back. I have seen the splendid equipages in Central 
Park, with coachmen and footmen in livery, the rich 
establishments of the Bois de Boulogne and of the Prado 
at Madrid, with postilions and outriders, but none of 
them compare, for style, with the forerunners of the 
East, the primitive bare-legged footmen, that run before 
the horses or carriages of the great, waving their white 
wands, and crying in a loud voice, " Make room for his 
high mightiness !" Four thousand years ago, Pharaoh 
set Joseph in a chariot, and made his footmen run before 
him, proclaiming to all, " bow the knee." And to-day the 



166 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



custom is as fresh as when Rachel's first-born ruled the 
land of bis forced adoption. The rich merchant or resi- 
dent Frank has but one of these heralds to clear the way 
for his carriage. The pasha and his family have two, 
dressed in white robes, with girdle at the waist, and with 
long sleeves that wave behind like streamers in the wind, 
as they run side by side, keeping step, in advance of the 
dashing carriage. Ordinarily, a word from one of these, 
is enough to turn the footman or laden ass to the right 
or left. The plodding animal receives the command, and 
obeys instinctively, for the herald indicates whether to 
the right or to the left he will have the obstruction re- 
moved. But when the ass is disobedient, or the driver 
slow or sleepy, the white wand is used without mercy 
and without remonstrance over his cringing shoulders. 

It is astonishing to an American or European to see 
how far this custom of clearing the street by forerunners 
can be carried. One day we were coming through Cairo, 
four in a carriage. Wishing to visit the museum, we 
turned aside from the usual route, and passed through 
one of the markets. The place was much too small for 
the business crowded into it. Not over fifteen feet wide, 
it was literally filled with every possible species of man 
and beast, as well as all sorts of commodities. Here a 
flock of goats waiting to be milked as fast as customers 
would arrive to purchase the proceeds. There a dozen 
camels lying down, waiting for a purchaser for the load 
of green clover upon their backs ; all around, men, 
women, and children, packed, jammed, and crammed into 
the little place, buying and selling, shouting, scolding, 
and talking, all at once. It appeared to us absolutely 
impossible to get through. Behind us was a second car- 
riage, containing some American friends. We were 
about to order a retreat, when the boys, one from the box 
with our driver, and the other attached to the one in 
our rear, jumped down from their places, armed with 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 167 



stout sticks, and made an onslaught upon the crowd. 
Without the least hesitation, the little rascals struck right 
and left, shouting and yelling all the time at the top of 
their voices. The market-people were punched and 
pounded ; men riding upon donkeys found their animals 
jumping forward from blows in the rear, or turned aside 
by the bridle and stowed against the wall, with an un- 
ceremonious kick in the ribs. No remonstrance or ob- 
jection to this high-handed conduct was made. But the 
way began to open before us, as if by magic. The boys 
continued on in advance, shouting, driving, kicking, and 
swearing — the donkeys, goats, and people silently yield- 
ing place before us as we drove on through the crowded 
market-place. 

After scampering down the Old Cairo road for three- 
quarters of an hour, we arrived at the ferry or crossing- 
place of the Nile. Old Cairo and Ghizeh stand facing 
each other on opposite sides of the river. The crossing 
is done at the upper end of the island of Rhoda, on which 
stands a palace inhabited by Hassan Pasha. 

On the point stands the celebrated nilometer, by 
which the rise of the river is measured. Inasmuch as 
the crops of Egypt depend upon the annual overflow of 
the Nile, the calculation made on Rhoda Island, deter- 
mines in advance what will be the condition of the coun- 
try as to food for the following year. And as it is a rule 
in Oriental statecraft, that the fiscal burdens of the people 
depend wholly upon what they can stand, and not upon 
what the government needs, it follows, that the ni- 
lometer is the national board of equalization that fixes 
the amount of taxes to be raised each year. It consists 
of a graduated pillar, about forty feet in height, placed 
in a well fifteen feet wide, down which stone steps lead 
to the bottom, winding round the pillar. The well is 
covered by an elegant wooden dome. The present ni- 
lometer has occupied this spot for more than a thousand 



168 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



years. Arabian inscriptions around the stone coping of 
the well, set forth that it was erected in the eighth 
century. The lowest height that the water ever rises 
to is thirty-two feet, and when this occurs a famine is 
considered inevitable. A perfect year is when the pillar 
indicates a rise of forty feet, and then the taxes are put 
at a proportional rate. I suspect that Joseph laid his 
assessment in some such ingenious manner. A rise of 
forty-three feet, it is said, would do great injury to the 
country. Within one hundred yards of the nilometer, 
a sunken place in the marble floor of the palace corridor, 
overlooking the river to the west, indicates the precise 
spot where Thermuthis, daughter of Pharaoh, discovered 
Moses in the bulrushes. To the left of the ferry stands 
the Coptic church, built over the spot where the holy 
family resided while sojourning in Egypt, to avoid the 
wrath of Herod. 

The Nile is a noble stream. Its appearance is quite in 
keeping with its historic fame. There can be no more 
majestic river in the world. It is, I think, a little wider 
than the Mississippi, and not quite so rapid. The color 
of its water is about the same. The Sacramento, if 
trebled in width, would resemble it more. When the 
banks of the Sacramento are, as they will be in time, or- 
namented with date-trees, ours will be the most perfect 
miniature Nile in the world. Anywhere but in Egypt 
the stream at this point would be crossed by steam ferry- 
boats, leaving either shore every five minutes. As it is, 
two or three hundred rough-decked barges, carrying each 
a single lateen sail, are scattered up and down the shore 
for a quarter of a mile from the ferry, each waiting for a 
cargo to pass over, and with no fixed rate of ferriage. 
The moment we reached the bank no less than three hun- 
dred masters of ferry-boats seized upon us and our lug- 
gage, our donkeys and women, each hauling and pulling 
toward their respective crafts as if for dear life. Before 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



169 



we had time to couut noses the whole army of exploration 
that hnd marched out of Cairo in such fine style, was 
broken up and on the point of if not actually embarked in 
as many vessels as there were persons or articles of 
equipage. Fortunately our dragoman was equal to the 
emergency, or the expedition might have ended disas- 
trously at this point. But by some flank movement that 
great strategist " Scander," brought us up out of the hos- 
tile fleet and got us on board of the craft with the owner 
of which he had arranged to divide the double fare that 
we were to be charged. In twenty minutes we were 
landed at Ghizeh, and men and beasts, donkeys and din- 
ner, huddled ashore as they had been huddled aboard 
— that is, all in heap. 

Mounting the bank, which is here about fifty feet high, 
we formed in good order at the summit. A counting of 
noses showed that instead of being short of any of the 
party, we had increased in number by about twenty-five 
extra camp-followers, fellows like those that had come 
from Cairo, who were going along on the general chances 
of what they could get out of the party upon one pretext 
or another. Ghizeh is a village on the west bank of the 
Nile, nearly opposite the great pyramids, which from this 
fact are sometimes called after the place. It is built of 
stone, contains six thousand inhabitants, and is celebrated 
for nothing that I know of except that here are ovens 
where chickens are hatched by artificial heat. There is 
an embankment or dike along the river from Ghizeh 
south, to restrain the water and regulate irrigation. It 
would be called in America a levee. The road for near 
a mile follows this bank, and then turning square to the 
right runs directly across the valley or river bottom to 
the pyramids. These the forests of date-trees that cover 
the country hide for a time, permitting only occasional 
glimpses over or through them ; but one mile from the 
river a little village is passed, and here, the trees ending, 



170 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



the pyramids stand before us just as they have appeared 
in each of our-story books and primers, from the time we 
were little children to the day we now look upon the 
reality. How this is, all know, and are equally familiar 
with. One picture of the pyramids is as good as another, 
and all are perfect. Salvator Rosa, or Claude, if living, 
could not convey on canvas a more genuine impression 
of these monuments of the past than does the cheapest 
wood-cut in a child's Sunday-school book. As we ap- 
proach them, coming from Cairo, the whole three stand 
in a row facing us, and abreast of each other. The valley 
from the bank of the Nile to within half a mile of them, 
is as level as a billiard table, and green with growing- 
crops. 

At this point the sand of the great desert of Sahara 
commences, upon the edge of which, but elevated a hun- 
dred feet above the plain, the three pyramids were built 
and stand. The little village of Caffra is upon the extreme 
edge of the fertile Nile valley, and over this the pyramids 
occupy the background to the picture. There is a gradual 
slope up the sand from Caffra to the brow of the hill 
where the row of pyramids stand, and halfway between 
the village and the middle pyramid sits the Sphinx, 
buried up to the neck in sand, but looking out upon the 
Nile valley sadly and patiently, as she has done this four 
thousand years past. The enormous magnitude of the 
pyramids produce the optical phenomena of their propor- 
tions appearing to be unaffected by distance. They look 
as large from the citadel at Cairo as they do on emerging 
from the date-grove that borders the west bank of the 
Nile. While from this latter point they appeared to me 
10 be quite as large as I expected to find them, and filling 
the whole western horizon, the head of the Sphinx that 
just peered above the low sand-ridge below their base, 
was a mere speck not to be recognized except on prior 
information of its existence and position. Pr« >ceeding on 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 171 



toward the edge of the desert, over at least three miles 
of fields and flats, still no change in their apparent mag- 
nitude could be perceived ; and not till we were at the 
very base of the structures did any of us begin to appre- 
ciate iheir real size. 

The pyramids are among the very few natural or arti- 
ficial wonders of the world that the traveler finds he has 
not been led in advance to over-estimate. The probabili- 
ties are that nine-tenths of all who will read this book 
have known the precise measurement of these structures 
from almost their earliest years. And yet I feel equally 
sure that not one in a hundred of them has formed any 
real mental estimate of their stupendous proportions. A 
mountain seven hundred and fifty feet broad at the base 
by four hundred and fifty feet high would be a notable 
object in any of the Atlantic States. It is not probable 
that one of such dimensions can be found in either of the 
great States of Ohio, Indiana, or Illinois. Standing close 
to the base and looking up the sides of the great pyramid, 
it is difficult to admit that this is the work of human 
hands, and not a vast mountain of stone. 

The Arabs of the neighboring village of Caffra claim 
a hereditary or prescriptive right to be the custodians of 
the pyramids. There are about six hundred inhabitants 
in the village, of whom half are Egyptian and the balance 
Arabs. There are four sheiks, two for the Arabs and two 
for the Egyptians. I asked one of the Arab boys why the 
Egyptians of the village did not also come out and assist 
travelers for backshish. He stared at me for a moment 
as if the idea were in itself so intrinsically preposterous 
as to require no reply. At last he condescended to inform 
me that if one dared attempt such a thing, the sheik of 
the Arabs would bang him over the head, and send him 
home again to work his plow and cut his clover. Long 
before we reached the village we were met by out-lying 
parties of pyramid Arabs, on the lookout for approaching 



172 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



howacfjis. Joining our gang, they swelled it into a little 
army. Without invitation or encouragement, they got 
behind our donkeys and lashed them into a gallop, hurry- 
ing the cavalcade — if the term may be used to designate 
a donkey party — over the valley at full speed. 

I had heard Arabs abused by returned travelers and 
book-makers for begging, thieving, and extortionate prac- 
tices generally, until I looked upon them as the natural 
enemies of the human race. I am now satisfied that the 
poor Arab is not half as bad as he has been represented. 
It is true that they use every sort of pretext and device 
to get backshish out of the visitor that comes their way. 
But they are content with small sums, take refusals kindly, 
and generously, and are pretty good sort of fellows, con- 
sidering where and how they live. After having visited 
them twice at the pyramids and passed once through their 
village, I left them impressed with the fact that, all things 
considered, they are the most wonderfully honest people 
on the face of the earth. It is true that occasionally they 
get a Frank on top of the pyramid, jayhawk him, and rob 
him of three or four dollars. But I do not know of over 
three men in America who, if they were in the places of 
these poor fellows, would act, differently. 

As for myself, if I were an Arab and had to live at the 
pyramids on grasshoppers and dried beans, I fear that I 
should rob every white man that ventured within ten 
miles of my tent. Not one would ever get back to Cairo 
with a rag to his back. I would strip him without mercy. 
And I am not willing to admit that I am much worse than 
the majority of my fellow-countrymen. Yet these poor 
fellows do not do so, but, on the contrary, permit Euro- 
peans to come here and go away again, only asking to be 
allowed to help them down from their horses, to lift them 
up and down the pyramids, and in short to do the most 
laborious offices imaginable; in return for which they are 
permitted to dole out to the Arabs such small copper 



SKETCHES 



OF TEA VEL. 



173 



or silver coin as they may think just. The Arabs do not 
beg outright, but they watch every thing you do and 
every step you take to offer you some sort of real or imagi- 
nary assistance. This, no matter how slight it be, is the 
basis of their request for backshish. If ascending a hill, 
no matter how insignificant, you find one or more behind 
you pushing you up. They will even get behind your 
donkey, and pretend to lift him along. When you alight, 
three or four get about the animal and hold him. One or 
two take charge of your coat. A half-dozen follow you 
about with jugs of water. Whether you drink or not 
they feel that they ought to be paid. A dozen or more 
offer to ascend to the top of the great pyramid and back 
in nine minutes. If you consent, even by a look of doubt, 
the fellow is off like an arrow. Prompt to the time, he is 
back demanding at least a dollar for having risked his 
neck in your service. If you start to look at a neighbor- 
ing pyramid, the Sphinx, or a tomb, a dozen go along as 
volunteer guides. Arriving, if you are not very careful, 
there will be more ascents and more risks of necks at 
your expense. In short, there is nothing you can do that 
an Arab will not manage to assist you in doing, and for 
which he will not want pay. Yet this claim is always 
presented kindly and pleasantly. A refusal does not 
make them angry or uncivil. They simply go on doing 
for you and begging for pay. 

The Arabs about the pyramid are a bright set of fel- 
lows, generally speaking more or less of the European 
languages. I saw very few that could not speak English 
quite plainly. They understand the different nationali- 
ties, and generally have certain catch-words or expres- 
sions designed to please them. Learning, in some man- 
ner, that we were Americans, nearly the whole tribe flat- 
tered us, as they thought, by singing, to the wild Arab's 
music, Yankee Doodle ; the following verse seemed to be 
an especial favorite : — 



174: GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



u Yankee Doodle came to town, 
On a little pony ; 
He stuck a feather in his cap, 
And called him macaroni." 

I found it to my interest to select one from the crowd 
to be my boy for the day. Mahomet was his name. He 
followed me about the whole time we were there, antici- 
pating every step, or wish, holding my donkey, bringing 
water, watching my coat, and acting as interpreter and 
guide. And finally, when we left he accompanied me half 
way to the river, and was entirely satisfied when I gave 
him ten piasters, equal to less than a half dollar American 
money. I got from him two dollars' worth of service, 
and information that was priceless. Why he did not rob 
me, is a question that has puzzled me ever since. Had 
our positions been reversed, I am not sure that I would not 
have stripped him to his shirt, and turned him out in the des- 
ert. I doubt if I should have left him a rag. At parting, 
instead of demanding of me my watch and purse, he sim- 
ply requested a written indorsement of his honesty. This 
I gave him, upon a leaf torn from my pocket-book, in pen- 
cil, as follows: "Mahomet is an honest Arab. He took 
me to the top of the pyramid, and brought me back with- 
out stripping or robbing me. — S." The statement that 
he took me to the top of the pyramid was inserted merely 
for grandeur, as I did not go more than half way. He 
was greatly delighted with it, and when I returned the 
next time, he showed the precious document sewed up in 
his shirt. Mahomet walked beside my donkey and told 
me about his poverty and his misfortunes. He had been, 
indeed, unfortunate. He had only one wife until about 
a year pnst, when his brother died, leaving a widow, whom 
he had felt it his duty to marry. That now he had more 
wives than garments. Would I pity his very hard situa- 
tion and give him backshish ? The misfortune of two 
wives was most touchingly told. 



SEE T GEES OF TRAVEL. 



175 



The sheik of the Arabs claims and exercises the right 
to levy a tax of one dollar upon each person who ascends 
the pyramid. In consideration, however, he furnishes one 
or more young men to accompany and assist the adven- 
turer in his enterprise. It is understood that the assist- 
ants have no claim upon the hoioadji, but that he is at 
liberty to give them backshish or not at his pleasure. We 
made a bargain that not only were we to pay them noth- 
ing, but that under no circumstances were they to ask for 
or expect any additional sum. In fact, the sheik bound 
himself to the effect that if any Arab should utter the 
word backshish or any equivalent term while on the pyra- 
mid, or afterward, upon the ground, that he would refund 
the whole sum paid him for the privilege of ascending. 
But the contract was broken before we had gone one 
hundred feet, and the whole party were begged out of 
sums varying from four to eight shillings each. 

The ascent is made generally at the northeast corner 
of the pyramid of Cheops, following it up from the bot- 
tom to the top. The huge stones that form these im- 
mense structures set back or recede from the perpendicu- 
lar, as they ascend, like stair steps. But as the stones are 
at least three feet in thickness, it follows that the ascent, 
though comparatively safe, is exceedingly difficult and 
fatiguing. The Arabs go ahead of the climber and give 
him a lift at each step. But the ascent of a height equal 
to four hundred and sixty-seven feet by steps three feet 
each, can not be rendered otherwise than difficult by any 
ordinary process of mere manual aid. 

About one-third of the way up there is a cavity in the 
corner where several large rocks have been thrown out, 
leaving a recess w^hich is generally used as a resting-place. 
When I arrived at this point I found Mr. Stickney, who 
started ahead of me, sitting on the stones and looking dis 
couraged. He had been a little further up, but thought 
it did not pay, and was on his return. I had already come 



176 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



to the same conclusion, and only wanted some one to show 
moral courage enough to back square out, to join in the re- 
treat. I passed on up, however, with a laugh at my chicken- 
hearted friend, assuring him that a trip to Egypt without 
ascending the great pyramid was time lost. Continuing 
to ascend for three or four moments longer, I found my- 
self quite out of sight of the discouraged traveler, and at 
a convenient place for sitting down. I knew that there 
was but one gentleman above me, General C, and I did 
not believe that he could reach the summit. I therefore 
sat down to await his return, in order to propose to him 
the ingenious plan of pretending we had been up, each 
being a witness for the other. In about five minutes he 
came down to where I was, but, to my amazement, he 
asserted flatly that he had been on the very top, and re- 
fused to enter into my conspiracy. Now, a greater fab- 
rication could not have been invented than his pretense, 
but as he had gone further than I then was, there was no 
help for it but to submit. It was bad enough to be ex- 
posed in my attempt to humbug those below me, but to 
have the virtuous indignation of my companions brought 
upon me by one whose claim was as unfounded as my 
own, I thought especially severe. 

The ascent of the great pyramid can not be said to be 
strictly dangerous, but requires a steady head and strong 
nerves. More attempt the feat than accomplish it. When 
standing upon the great stone steps, the sides appear to 
be almost a perfect precipice. 

The second pyramid, known as the Pyramid of Cephron, 
and called by some the Pyramid of Belzoni, is within ten 
or twenty feet of the height of the great one, and is much 
more difficult of ascent. This can not be ascended with- 
out considerable risk. Of the crowed of Arabs at the 
village there were, we w T ere told, only four that could do it. 
On my second visit Capt. T. employed one of these to go 
up, giving him a few dollars for the exploit. We then 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



177 



saw the real difficulty of the business. AH of the pyramids 
were originally covered with an outside coating of smooth 
or polished rock. From two of them this has either been 
taken off or has fallen down. From this second one it 
has all disappeared except about one-fourth of the distance 
from the top. So that up to three-quarters of the length 
the ascent is made over the stone steps, as is the case with 
others, but at this point commences the coating of smooth 
rock. Upon reaching this point the Arab was obliged to 
work his way outward and. backward over the projecting 
edge, and then to make his way at least one hundred 
feet by means of steps, or foot-holes, cut in the smoother 
surface to the highest point. When it is remembered, 
that this feat is performed at a distance of three hundred 
and fifty feet from the ground it will be partially under- 
stood. Most of travelers, letter-writers, and book-makers, 
feel themselves called upon to assert that they have 
ascended Belzoni's Pyramid, passing over the smooth 
surface to the top. I feel myself called upon to say in 
the interest of truth, that I do not believe one of them. 
I not only do not believe that any English or American 
book-maker has ascended, but I do not believe that one 
of them ever pretended even to make the effort. A man 
equal to the feat can easily cross Niagara on the tight-rope, 
and a man that can cross Niagara on the tight-rope can 
not write a book that anybody can read. 

Having returned to the bottom, I found the party 
already at lunch under the shade of one of the vast over- 
hanging stones. Cold chicken and Bass's ale, formed 
the basis of our meal. It was none the less relished by 
reason of the ride of twelve or fourteen miles from Cairo, 
which we had taken. The whole village of Caffra 
attended at the banquet as uninvited guests. Every 
crumb and every chicken-bone thrown aside was eagerly 
caught up by the half-starved crew, and greedily consumed. 
Several efforts were made by the party to tempt or de- 

8* 



178 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



ceive them into eating of the unclean flesh of swine, 
in one form or another, but in vain. They were aware 
of our impious habit of feeding upon this beast, and 
were on their guard. Pieces of sausage sandwiched 
in bread, ham mixed with chicken, and otherwise dis- 
guised, were offered to the pious Mussulmans, but as 
invariably rejected with half-concealed disgust. 

Having finished our meal, the party followed by the 
whole troop set off in grand march over the hill to visit 
the Sphinx. This can not be seen from the base of the 
pyramids, although within less than a quarter of a mile 
from the center one. The pyramids, as I said before, 
stand along the brow of the hill, while the Sphinx, 
covered in sand up to the neck, is about half way down 
the declivity, which is somewhat abrupt, and toward the 
cultivated land of the valley. Our lunching ground had 
been at the extreme point of the great pyramid, so that 
in going to the Sphinx, we had to pass along the whole 
length of its base of seven hundred and fifty feet, and on 
further, about an equal distance, until we were abreast 
the second, when we turned down the hill a few steps, 
bringing us to the back of the Egyptian deity. A troop 
of hyenas as we advanced galloped off over the hill, pass- 
ing by the Belzoni Pyramid, toward the great desert, 
pausing for an instant on the crest of the ridge, as if to 
count our numbers and the chances of a bite at us in the 
future. But a rattling yell from the Arabs, in the trill 
so familiar to those who have heard the war-whoop of the 
American Indian, sent the beasts flying into the trackless 
desert beyond. 

Like the pyramid, the Sphinx is beyond the power of 
human ingenuity to overrate. As the pyramids of Ghizeh, 
stand to all other structures raised by human hands, so is 
this to all the stone images of the world. Standing within 
a quarter of a mile of the great pyramid, its colossal pro- 
portions appear relatively to be dwarfed to pygmy stature, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



179 



but the neck and head of the creature rise near forty feet 
above the surrounding sand that has covered its body. The 
top of the back extends toward the hill at the foot of the 
Pyramid of Belzoni for fifty yards or more, while the 
face, turned toward Cairo and the Nile, looks sadly out 
over the valley and toward the mountains that border the 
Red Sea. The face, and in fact the whole figure, have- 
been cut and polished with a degree of care and precision 
that invariably astonishes the visitor. It is generally 
thought that the Sphinx, reared so many thousand years 
ago, by a people ignorant and uncultivated, in its execution 
partook of their rude character. But a close examination 
shows that it was, when new,* as beautifully chiseled and 
polished as the finest colossal statues of red Egyptian 
granite of the time, so many of which are to be seen in 
the museums of Europe. The face has suffered but little, 
considering the thousands of years that have passed since 
it was hewed from the solid ledge of rock that underlies 
the plain. But the nose has been almost destroyed. This 
gives to the figure a'character resembling the Ethiopian 
type, and upon this idea many writers have claimed that 
it was constructed by a race springing from that branch 
of the human family. But those who have come to this 
conclusion, have certainly under-estimated the effect upon 
the human face divine, produced by removing its most 
important feature. The lips, it is true, appear thick and 
pouting, but not more so than usual; and especially is this 
greatly increased by the prominence given to the lower 
feature by the loss of the organ mentioned. 

We had not been three minutes at the Sphinx before 
half the village of Caffra were scrambling over the sacred 
head of that deity, or hanging like pendants from her 
ears, her lips, or her chin. For this feat they expect un- 
told sums of backshish. And the slightest look or word 
is sufficient to satisfy them that they make the ascent 
undor an express contract with you for a sufficient sum. 



180 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



In fact, it is never safe to look at an Arab engaged in any 
act, no matter how insignificant. If he sees you looking 
on, he claims remuneration on a sort of implied assumpsit 
that he shall be paid what the act is worth. If he is on 
the top of the pyramid or the Sphinx, and you look at 
him, you have had the benefit of the act, and, in his 
humble judgment, he is fully entitled to pay from you, 
upon a quantum meruit. It is in vain that you protest 
that you did not tell him to go there, that you even did 
not want him to go ; he assures you that he narrowly 
escaped with his life, and that he did it solely for your 
gratification ; that as an evidence of it he saw you look- 
ing at him just at the identical moment when he was in 
the greatest danger. And then he asks you if you can 
expect him to risk his neck for you for nothing ? How 
can you refuse compensation for risks taken in your ser- 
vice and at your special request, is the question he raises 
the moment he has descended from the crown of the 
Sphinx, or the top of the great pyramid. 

Within five minutes after our arrival, not less than a 
dozen altercations were going on between as many ner- 
vous American visitors and Arabian men of nerve who 
had just descended from the Sphinx's forehead, her eye- 
brow, her back hair, or the place where her nose would have 
been but for the vandal finger of Time. The Arabians, I 
believe, generally got the best of the argument. A small 
sum compensates them for their desperate exploits, and 
they press their claims with energy and good-nature. It 
is very hard to refuse three or four cents of American 
money to a half-naked fellow who pretends that he 
understood you to engage him in a service which is really 
amusing, and goes to make up the peculiar character of a 
day's adventure never again to be repeated. For grand 
as are the pyramids, and wonderful as is the Sphinx, the 
pleasure of a visit to them is measurably increased by 
the presence of the sons of the desert, the wild descend- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



1S1 



ants of Ishmael. And when we turned our donkeys' 
heads from them for the last time, the poor fellows, fol- 
lowing us for a mile over the plain, bidding us good-bye 
in English, we felt that the obligation we owed to the 
poor Arab for his share in our day's pleasures, had not 
been too dearly discharged. 



CHAPTER XV. 



THE BED SEA. 

Small as is the town of Suez in population, it possesses 
a number of attractions that suffice in the aggregate to 
draw to it for a longer or shorter stay nearly all of the 
travelers who pass through Egypt. In the first place, it 
is the chief station of the Peninsula and Oriental Com- 
pany's Indian Ocean fleet. It is also the starting point 
for travelers going to Mount Sinai and to Syria overland. 
For since the completion of the railroad from Alexandria 
to Suez, persons going thither no longer submit to the 
four days' march across the burning sand, but come by 
rail in a little over that number of hours. To the student 
of Bible history, Suez is interesting as being the point 
near which Moses with the children of Israel crossed the 
Red Sea, while to the ordinary lounger about the world, 
it is attractive in possessing the best hotel in Egypt, and 
probably in the East. 

From Cairo to Suez the country is one continuous 
desert of sand. Nowhere, in any direction, from the edge 
of the Nile valley to the Red Sea, does the eye rest upon 
so much as a single green shrub. All is desolation. 
The train stops but twice in the whole trip, and then 
merely to water the locomotive. Occasionally a long line 
of camels may be seen tramping solemnly one after the 
other on their way to Mecca or to Jaffa, but no other 
indication of life shows itself to us during the trip, away 
from the line of the railway. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



183 



At two o'clock we arrived in this town of stone walls 
and rnud roofs. Not so much as one hotel-runner or 
baggage-man addressed the party upon our getting out 
of the cars. The natives of Suez have not as yet pro- 
gressed this far in civilization. I could not believe such 
a thing possible, and thought there must be some mis- 
take about the matter. In my travels I had never met 
with this phenomenon of barbarism before. Nor do I 
believe that any other traveler has made a similar dis- 
covery. It is true that no mention is made in history of 
what became of the baggage of Columbus upon his land- 
ing upon the island of his first discovery ; but it must be 
remembered that the office of special correspondent for 
a newspaper was then unknown, otherwise I am quite 
sure that upon the happening of so important an event 
as the discovery of a new world, every detail of the affair, 
from the name and pedigree of the enterprising young 
man who first seized his carpet bag and umbrella, to the 
biography of the landlord of the house where he put up, 
would have appeared in the leading journals of the day. 
Finding that the usual way in Suez for travelers to get to 
the hotel was the primitive one of picking up their bag- 
gage and walking to it, we all fell into the custom of the 
country and did so. A walk of a hundred yards brought 
us to the establishment, and we entered. It has been 
finished but a short time and is the property of the great 
steamship company which is so important a power on the 
Isthmus of Suez and the Red Sea. The landlord and his 
wife, both English people, received us kindly, and as there 
was at that particular moment no passengers in transitu, 
accommodated us with good rooms for the night. 

We had just heard of the sailing of the first steamship 
westward from San Francisco to China, and felt nearer 
home than at any time since we left New York. There 
was a steamship almost ready to sail down the Red Sea 
to India and China, where it would connect with the 



184 GOING TO JERICHO; OP., 



great American line. It appeared to us the nearest way 
to our home. 

The advertisements that hung about the walls of the 
hotel showed how almost East Indian the place we were in 
was getting to be. One flaming handbill set forth in gilt 
letters that the billiard room of W. Douglass, No. 6 
Waterloo Street, Calcutta, was " absolutely the coolest 
room in India." Another, handsomely framed and glazed, 
showed the wonderful advantages that would inure to the 
traveler who should possess the foresight or good fortune 
to secure rooms and board at the Elphinstone Hotel in 
Bombay, and a third proved to an absolute certainty that 
nowhere in Madras, save at the establishment of William 
Gobbett, could the genuine pale ale of Bass & Co. be 
obtained in its native purity. On the table of the read- 
ing-room lay the daily newspapers of Madras and Calcutta, 
of dates later than any I had seen from London, New 
York, or Paris. Everybody about the place had been, or 
were about to go to the Englishman's California, and all 
things partook to a corresponding extent of the Anglo- 
Indian character. 

We sat down to a very good lunch, consisting of cold 
roast-beef, bread, cheese, and ale, and which the bills of 
fare posted about the place informed us was " tiffin," and 
then sallied forth to look at the place. 

The two lions of Suez consist of the great Canal and 
the Wells of Moses. The sea at this point dwindles down 
into a narrow creek not more than a mile wide at high 
water. The great canal enters this opposite to Suez and 
distant about two miles. We were anxious to visit both 
the Wells of Moses and the Canal, but upon learning that 
the former were down the gulf ten or twelve miles, were 
obliged to forego the pleasure for want of time. Why 
these are called the Wells of Moses I did not learn. 1 
asked the boatman who took us over to the canal how far 
it was to the place where Moses and the children of Israel 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



185 



crossed. He replied that it would take about two hours 
to sail down to it. 1 said that I was very sorry that it 
was so distant, as I was anxious to visit the sacred spot, 
but under the circumstances would be obliged to give it 
up, as I intended to leave on the morning train the fol- 
lowing day. This evidently troubled Hassan very greatly. 
I could see by his conduct that he regretted exceedingly 
having located the miracle at so distant a point. But no 
more was said upon the subject until he was ready to 
leave the canal, when he came and taking me aside in- 
formed me that when I had asked hitn for the distance, he 
had without thinking given me the place. as claimed by 
the Jews, but there was no doubt whatever that the Chris- 
tians were right in placing the crossing of Moses at a 
point much nearer to Suez, and not more than an hour's 
sail ; that in this the Mohammedan tradition concurred 
with the Christian, and there could be no manner of doubt 
of its correctness ; that we still had plenty of time to sail 
down to the real point and return to the hotel before 
night. I told Hassan that, inasmuch as it appeared to be 
admitted that there was some dispute about the identity 
of the spot, I would content myself with the general 
sight that I could get from anyplace in Suez of the whole 
line of coast, both north and south, including all the 
places claimed as genuine, as well as far beyond them, 
and feel that I had seen the real spot, let it be where it 
would. He consented to this with great reluctance, assur- 
ing me time and again that he could carry me to the real 
place in less than half an hour. 

Having landed at a little stone pier opposite Suez and 
on the Asiatic side, a walk of fifteen minutes brought us 
to the bank of the canal. This is an enterprise under- 
taken and carried on by a French company, and is intend- 
ed to connect the Red Sea with the Mediterranean and to 
be large and deep enough to permit the largest class of 
vessels to pass through into the Indian Ocean. Though 



186 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the distance is only about seventy miles, this is undoubt- 
edly one of the most formidable civil undertakings of 
modern times. After cutting this canal about twenty 
miles of the line to the requisite width an obstacle, thought 
by many to be unsurmountable has been mat with. It 
passes through a shallow lake for a considerable distance, 
and it is in this that the trouble has developed. The bot- 
tom is a quagmire, and as fast as it is thrown out fills up 
again by oozing in from the bottom and sides. A diffi- 
culty under which the railroad company labor has also 
been found to threaten the canal builders even more for- 
midably than it has that enterprise. It is the drifting 
sand of the desert that constantly moves with the wind, 
filling up and covering over every obstacle in its path. 
The railroad managers are obliged to be at work con- 
stantly to keep their track above ground. And it is 
claimed by many engineers to be practically impossible to 
keep the canal open, even if it ever is finished. The 
original capital of the company was 400,000,000 francs. 
They had also an extensive grant of land along the line 
of the route from the late viceroy of Egypt. But the 
present viceroy, Ishmael Pasha, is rather unfriendly to 
French influence and inclines to the English. This is en- 
couraged and urged on by the diplomatists of that na- 
tion, who see pretty plainly the plans of France to get 
possession of all northern Africa. The Order of the Bath 
has just been conferred upon the Egyptian with appropri- 
ate ceremonies. He has therefore withdrawn the grant 
of land and compromised with the company by a subsidy 
of money instead, amounting to about 80,000,000 francs. 
The original capital had been well invested, and the man- 
agement has been able to report to the company that 
while an amount has already been expended in the prose- 
cution of the enterprise nearly equal to the original capi- 
tal stock, still a sum remains in the treasury of about the 
same amount for future operations. The report which 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



187 



has recently appeared claims that the work is going on in 
a successful manner, and that in six years the whole will 
be complete. 

Though began long before the Pacific Railroad, unless 
the Frenchmen are wide awake, the American road to 
India will be completed ahead of them. The canal is 
intended to be three hundred feet wide and twenty -five 
feet deep. That part near to Suez, and which we visited, 
is being executed in the best possible manner, and if it 
all shall be finished equal to this section, the Suez canal 
will be a work in the engineering line never before 
approached in the history of that science. But when it 
is finished the power of the Turk in Africa will have 
passed away, and one more step toward making the Med- 
iterranean a French lake will have been taken. The line 
of the canal runs almost due north from a point opposite 
Suez debouching at Port Said in the Mediterranean. 
The Russian line of steamers from Alexandria to Odessa 
on the Black Sea touch at this port once in a fortnight. 
It is about fifty miles east of the Damietta mouth of the 
Nile. The canal is already cut to a width and depth 
sufficient to permit the passage of boats from Suez to 
Port Said. From Suez north to a distance of twenty 
miles barges are towed by men or horses, and from that 
point to the sea small screw-steamers ply back and forth. 
This is done by means of a channel or ditch cut in the 
middle of the intended canal, and is about twenty-five 
feet wide. The ship canal is being cut down on each 
side of this to the requisite width, but in no place has it 
reached a sufficient depth. The depth is to be obtained 
by excavations to a point where the water shall prevent 
this class of operations, and after that by dredging. The 
great canal has one feeder from this branch of the Nile to 
supply it with water, the balance coming from the lake 
and the two seas that it is intended to connect. The 
steamers of the Peninsula and Oriental Company do not 



188 GOIXG TO JERICHO; OB, 



come up to Suez, but anchor in a harbor about five miles 
further down. In fact the little vessels that do reach the 
town do so only at high tide, and for a great part of 
the twenty-four hours in the day lay high and dry in the 
mud and sand. 

To locate the passage of the Children of Israel at Suez, 
as is almost universally done, appears to me to deprive it 
almost wholly of its miraculous character. When we 
arose on the following morning- almost the whole bottom 
of the creek, for so the sea becomes at Suez, was laid bare 
by the ebbing of the tide, which is here not less than 
twelve feet. Vessels, not less than twenty in number, 
that the evening before appeared to hold their places only 
by being securely moored, were now far from the water, 
and careened quite over on their sides, so that it must 
have been impossible to walk their decks. But those 
Avho insist upon the miraculous character of the passage 
can do as did Hassan, our Arabian boatman, who wanted 
to convey me to the place. They can move it down the 
sea till they come to water deep enough to answer the 
purpose. Those on the other hand who insist that the 
" east wind " alone came providentially to aid the tide in 
driving the waters temporarily out of the usual channels, 
until the chosen people could pass, may lay the scene quite 
up to the town of Suez, or even north of it. My judgment 
is, that to fix the place with absolute accuracy one will be 
greatly aided by the fact of never having been on the 
spot, or, even better still, not within a distance of at least 
one thousand miles of the Red Sea. 

Certain Oxford theologians believe that God conducted 
the retreat of the Children of Israel from Egyptian bond- 
age without disturbing the understood laws of nature. 
They of course insist that the passage was made at or 
near to Suez, over the creek w r hich was temporarily 
emptied by the wind and a strong ebb-tide. Napoleon, 
it is said, believed in this view of the case, and when in 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 189 



Suez attempted to cross at the same point, in order to 
demonstrate its practicability. But it appears by some 
accounts that he managed his mimic exodus more after 
the fashion of the drowned Egyptians than the success- 
fully escaping Israelites. But according to the French 
historians, he escaped from the result of his imprudent 
attempt to derogate from the miraculous power of 
Almighty God, by one of his usual efforts of presence of 
mind and great generalship. He ordered his followers 
to disperse in all directions as the tide rolled in upon them 
in order to increase the chances of finding firm bottom 
on which to stand. By this bright idea he was suc- 
cessful, and all escaped from what appeared to be a bad 
pickle. I think there is no reason to doubt that there are 
times when the water is so low at Suez that for a short 
interval the bay may be safely forded ; but it is also 
equally clear that the time would be altogether too limited 
to permit the passage of a large body of people with 
their cattle and goods. And besides, by passing north a 
few miles the whole sea would have been avoided. This 
latter point is, however, used in support of two entirely 
opposite sets of opinions. By those who support the per- 
fect miracle " the wall of water on the right and on the 
left " theory, it is claimed as an evidence that the event 
must have occurred at a point farther south than Suez some 
twenty or more miles, where the sea is broad and deep. 
On the other side, the unbelievers in the miraculous inter- 
position of the Divine hand in human affairs, insist this 
to be a conclusive argument against the Israelitish people 
ever having traversed the Red Sea at all. For, say they, 
if the ancient capital of Egypt was at Memphis, or its 
vicinity, there was no occasion for them to come near 
that body of water. A line drawn from Cairo east to the 
land of Arabia, to which they fled, passes easily and natu- 
rally north of the Red Sea and all its creeks and branches. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



THE AMERICAN COLONY AT JAFFA. 



There is nothing in all Palestine so worthy of mention 
and of commendation at the hands of the traveler as the 
monks of the San Franciscan Order. It was at the great 
iron door of the convent of the Terra Santa at Jaffa that 
our party knocked for admission, at the end of a tedious 
and stormy passage in the Austrian steamer Archduchess 
Carlotta from Alexandria, The fact that we were mostly 
Protestants did not render us in the least humble, as it 
should have done, coming as we did, to ask favors of our 
religious adversaries. Had we been Catholic pilgrims on 
our way to the Holy Sepulcher, we could not have made 
a greater row at the door of the pious monks than we 
did. The convent fronts upon the sea. The vessel that 
had brought us and our luggage was already steaming 
away up the coast toward Tyre, as regardless of what 
became of their late passengers as if none such had ever 
existed. Twenty-five villainous-looking Arabs had seized 
on our trunks and valises and were tumbling them over 
the low half-door that divided the outside world from an 
inner neutral ground between it and the actual door of 
the convent. This they did without so much as inquir- 
ing whether we were to be received by the fathers or 
not. The Mussulman Arabs look upon all Christians as 
equally wicked and unclean. The distinction between 
Catholic and Protestant is to them too faint a line to be 
recognized, and if understood, would be classed as we do 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



191 



the quarrels between the pot and the kettle. But we felt 
our own unworthiness, and how little a claim we had to 
be admitted here. 

At last the bolt was drawn back, and the great door 
swung open with a loud clank. A shaven head, from 
which a brown hood had just fallen, appeared. We were 
invited to enter, and up the winding stone stairs we 
mounted round and round till at last, when almost out of 
breath, we stopped at the general reception-room, quite 
on the roof of the house. Here we sat down while coffee 
and lemonade was passed about to all, with no question 
as to nationality or religion. The twenty-five passengers 
had left the steamer all bound for Jerusalem. They were 
all Americans and all Protestants, save one, Mr. C. of our 
party. Yet here we were drinking the coffee of the holy 
fathers, and refreshing ourselves upon their lemons as 
freely as if we had each confessed ourselves at the con- 
vent gate before enu ring. How many monks there may 
be at the Terra Santa I did not learn. We saw but one. 
He appeared to have been appointed to hold all necessary 
communication with the outer world in order that the 
others might not be disturbed in their pious orisons and 
penitential works. He brought in the coffee and passed 
it around to the company with his own hands. Return- 
ing to his room, he brought out lemonade for those who 
were thirsty. When we were rested, the same holy 
father showed all to comfortable rooms and clean beds. 
In an hour the same and good Samaritan rang the great 
bell for dinner, and when we were seated at the long 
table, himself served the food that was brought in some 
mysterious manner from the depths below. 

The convents of Syria are substantially the only inns 
of the country. It is true there are two inferior taverns 
at Jerusalem, but at Jaffa, at Mar Saaba, at Tyre, at 
Carmel, and at Nazareth, the convents alone afford a 
shelter for the Frankish traveler. And to these hospi- 



192 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



table places all Christian wayfarers at nightfall direct 
their steps, whether they have money or whether they 
have not, with the confident belief that the door will be 
open to them and food and safety offered. And in this 
I firmly believe none are ever disappointed. The good 
brothers have always a joint of mutton in the larder and 
a bottle of wine in the cellar for all wayfarers that pre- 
sent themselves in the name of humanity. No charge is 
ever made ; but it is expected that those who are able will 
not wantonly consume the substance that is intended for 
the needy, but will leave a recompense, by way of a free- 
will offering, adequate to the cost incurred by the benevo- 
lent monks. In this reasonable expectation it is to be 
hoped they are seldom disappointed. 

But many parties travel with Syrian dragomans, under 
a contract by which, for a fixed sum per day, the drago- 
man furnishes horses and tents, and pays all bills incurred 
in traveling. These occasionally put % up at the convents, 
and then the treasury of the house suffers. A class of 
men which cheat all with whom they come in contact, 
can not be expected to be just to the inoffensive ascetics 
of Syria. The traveler is bound to pay the dragoman a 
sum which is generally about double what the service is 
worth. The dragoman, knowing of the high considera- 
tion in which acts of charity are held among Christians, 
and especially by the monastic orders of the Catholic 
Church, feels himself justified in marching out of the 
house often without paying or offering to pay a cent for the 
hospitality received. The wonder, to my mind, is that 
the monks ever allow a stranger to enter their gates. 
I knew of one family from America, consisting of four 
persons, besides their dragoman, who rested at the con- 
vent of the Terra Santa for five days, having the best 
rooms in the place and eating at the great table all the 
time. Upon leaving, the dragoman made an " offering," 
as it is called, of four dollars. Fortunately, the gentle- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



193 



man learned of the iniquity in time to set it right by be- 
stowing a suitable gratuity. I believe that no fault can 
be found generally with travelers in this respect, save 
those who have hired themselves out to dragomans in the 
mode I have described. 

Travelers left to themselves usually leave about two 
dollars and a half a day each, while they stay at the con- 
vents. And it is probable that all over about one dollar 
of that sum is a clear gain to the treasury of the estab- 
lishment, but of course, does not more than compensate 
fairly for the value of the services of the laboring brothers, 
who perform the duty of domestics. 

We, having determined to proceed toward Jerusalem 
the following day, were up early in the morning in order 
to have a hasty look at Jaffa before leaving. But early 
as it was, we found ourselves accosted at the gate in the 
familiar tones of the American language. 

There had recently occurred at Jaffa a wonderful event. 
It was no less than the arrival there of an American 
colony. Not a colony of discontented and broken-down 
rebels, such as we have heard of seeking a new home in 
Mexico or Brazil, but a colony of genuine Yankees from 
New England, coming, as they say, with a new religion 
in one hand and American plows and reaping machines 
in the other, to regenerate the land on American princi- 
ples. The whole movement had astonished the half- 
civilized natives of the country as much as it must have 
amazed the people of America when they became informed 
of it. 

The specimen of the American language that greeted 
us at the convent gate proceeded from one of these " re- 
generators." He was from Maine, he said, and followed 
up the declaration by recommending us to be sure to stop 
at the Damascus Hotel in Jerusalem when we should 
reach there, placing at the same time a neatly printed card 
in our hands, which set forth in English that that house was 
9 t 



194 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



clean and well kept, besides enjoying a fine view of the site 
of Solomon's temple and Mounts Zion and Calvary. I asked 
Ijim when he had left Jerusalem. He had not been there 
at all, he said, but had been engaged by the landlord of 
the Damascus to prevent his countrymen from falling into 
the hands of the rapacious proprietor of the Mediterra- 
nean, a rival establishment. He stated that he did so the 
more freely, inasmuch as that house would inevitably 
starve us all to death if we should be so unlucky as to 
stop within its walls. Would we assure him that we 
would go to the Damascus ? We promised him, upon 
the faith of high-toned American gentlemen, that we 
would, certainly do so. Would we say to the proprietor 
of that magnificent hotel that we had been recommended 
to it by Mr. Coffin of Jaffa ? Again we gave an affirma- 
tive pledge of a most solemn character. The matter of 
business being thus satisfactorily closed, our countrymen 
invited us " over to the colony." "It was," he said, " not 
above a half a mile away; a matter of five minutes' walk 
from the Jerusalem gate." We could not go just then, 
but would come, we assured him, immediately after break- 
fast. Mr. Coffin, formerly farmer of Maine, but now 
" regenerator " of Palestine, left us satisfied with the 
promise, and I hope with the stroke of business he had 
done. That his regeneration of Palestine had already 
taken the direction of introducing to it the American 
branch of industry, known as hotel-running, was obvious. 
But what commission upon the amount collected from 
guests fell to his share we did not learn. 

We directed our steps to the only spot in Jaffa possess- 
ing any scriptural interest ; and as it was the first we had 
seen in the Holy Land we set out with all the eagerness 
of novices in the business. It was the house of Simon 
the tanner. In three minutes we were at the door. It 
was opened by a bare-legged Syrian, wearing a single 
garment, which might almost have been a cast-off dress- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



195 



ing-gownof the host who charitably entertained St. Peter 
in the same mansion so long ago. The house bears evi- 
dence of great antiquity. There is nothing in its appear- 
ance to fix its age, but it is strong enough to last yet a 
thousand or five thousand years. The story located at 
the house is related in the ninth and tenth chapters of the 
Acts of the Apostles. It was here that Peter tarried 
when he raised the charitable Dorcas from the dead. It 
was upon the roof of this house, according to local tradi- 
tion, that he went upon another occasion to pray about 
the sixth hour ; and while there had a vision of a sheet 
which was let down from heaven, knit at the four corners, 
and in which were all manner of beasts and creeping 
things and fowls of the air. " And there came a voice to 
him saying, Rise, Peter, kill and eat." We went upon the 
house-top and found it to be like all the roofs in Jaffa, of 
stone arched like the cover to a vault. It was solid 
enough, and might well be old enough to date back long 
before the time of our Lord. A fig-tree not less than 
eighteen inches in diameter had fixed its roots in the rocky 
crevices on the roof as if on a mountain side. And there 
it had bloomed and borne fruit for years past. Had it 
been there in Simon Peter's time, he must have beheld 
the vision beneath its spreading branches. 

After breakfast w r e set off through the curious, crooked, 
dark, and dirty streets of Jaffa, on our way to the Ameri- 
can village. Jaffa is situated upon a small promontory 
that projects a few yards into the sea, the houses rising 
up from the water in the form of an amphitheater. It 
has no harbor worth mentioning. If the weather is 
rough, the vessels lying at anchor in the open roadstead 
in front of the town, that goes by that name, are obliged 
to put to sea. And meanwhile steamers arriving from 
up or down the coast, pass on to Beyrout or Alexandria, 
according to the direction from which they come. The 
town contains a population of five thousand, of which one 



196 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



thousand are Christians. The houses within the town 
and without, except at the American colony, are built of 
stone, no wood being used in the construction, not even 
for the roofs. These are solid bomb-proof arches, making 
the town resemble so many vaulted tents. It is the 
Joppa of the Bible, and has a tradition that here Noah's 
Ark was built. It was here that the Greek fable located 
the spot where Andromeda was chained to the rock, and 
here the cedars of Lebanon, furnished by the king of 
Tyre for the temple of Solomon, were delivered and 
landed. It was here, in modern times, and quite close to 
the site of the American village, that Napoleon led out 
four thousand Turkish prisoners and, against the terms 
of the surrender, for the crime of being in the way, shot 
them ; and here, if some historians are to be believed, the 
same hero, upon being compelled to march away, poisoned 
his own plague-stricken soldiers in the hospitals as a 
measure of humanity — it being certain that they would 
soon die of the disease if left to themselves, and be 
murdered by the enemy if left to them. 

The climate is good, being very much like that of Santa 
Cruz, California. The oranges of Jaffa are reputed the 
best in the world. They are certainly the largest and finest 
I have seen. The valley of Sharon, the fairest and greenest 
part of all the land of Canaan, slopes gently back from Jaffa, 
and extends to the foot of the coast range. Perched in 
those mountains, and scarcely out of sight of the blue 
Mediterranean, is Jerusalem. From these rugged tops, 
down the valley southward, perhaps nowhere out of sight 
of Jaffa, that famous Israelitish guerrilla chieftain, Sam- 
son, operated against the much-abused Philistines, and 
going up along the foot of the hills the youthful and 
ardent David must have returned in triumph from Gaza, 
laden with the dower that was to enable him to become 
the son-in-law of King Saul. It is here, in the Valley 
of Sharon, but five minutes' walk from the Jerusalem 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 197 



gate, that a hundred and fifty American men, women, and 
children, have set up their household gods. The road 
down to the village is shaded by the date, the pome- 
granate, and the Syrian acacia. Hedges of prickly pears, 
twenty feet high, divide each field and garden spot from 
the other, and the whole from the road to Jerusalem that 
passes through it. Hundreds of lazy, brown Bedouins 
and dirty-white Syrians stood about the low gate as we 
passed through, staring at us. 

As we issued from the gate into the open plain, the 
American village, its neat square cottages, with green 
blinds, its wide streets and airy appearance, came in 
view. ISTo guide is necessary to conduct the stranger 
from Jaffa to the American colony. It speaks from afar 
off. Near the line of the village we saw two little boys 
aged respectively about nine years, and each dressed in 
jacket and trousers. They were busily occupied in the 
construction of what is, I believe, technically termed a 
mud pie. But one of them looked up from his work at 
our approach. The other was working up his side of the 
pie with his hands. One of us addressed the former 
familiarly on what was imagined to be his Christian name, 
and inquired kindly after his health. With true Ameri- 
can economy of time, he, without looking up or discon- 
tinuing his task, answered us promptly. It was evident 
that the youths were Americans, nor could we detect any 
evidence of decadence of the race under the effect of the 
Syrian sun. The main street of the village is at right 
angles with the road. Turning into this, and advancing 
a few yards, we found a party of men engaged in fram- 
ing and raising a new house. Along the main street 
were eight or ten wooden houses built in the American 
cottage style. There were about twenty houses com- 
pleted so as to be habitable, and all fronting upon four 
spacious streets, allowing a garden-spot for each estate. 

The men stopped their work upon our approach, and 



198 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



addressed us pleasantly. Would we walk up to the 
bouse of President Adams, who would be glad to see us ? 
We shook hands all round and walked up to the house 
of the president. The door was immediately opened, 
disclosing to us the commanding figure of Mrs. President 
Adams. A glance at the lady was sufficient to assure us 
that the hospitality of the mansion was in good hands, 
and that once having obtained her permission to enter 
no further license would be necessary. 

Mrs. Adams is a large-sized lady, with a decided mili- 
tary manner. Her age may be anywhere between thirty- 
three and fifty. Her fine head is set well back on 
her shoulders, so that her chest and chin are perhaps 
more prominent features than her nose or eyes. This 
gives her the appearance of looking down at you from 
under her glasses, as if from a great distance ; but a 
close observation convinced me that the impression was 
illusive, and that she really looked at us squarely through 
these instruments. A more positive-looking person I 
never met with. If President Adams should at any time 
abandon the work of regenerating Palestine upon the 
American system, the scheme will be taken up at the 
point where he leaves it off, and will not lose by the 
change. The first thing the lady did after seeing us was 
to order us into the parlor. This she did with a com- 
manding sweep of the hand that I suspect Queen Victoria 
would have envied. 

All obeyed, and we were soon seated in chairs placed 
in single file across a wide room, while the Presidentess 
stood in front making a speech, the substance of which, 
when stripped of a slight tendency to be grandiloquent, 
was, that the American eagle of freedom, after having 
perched for more than ninety years upon the rockbound 
coasts of his native land, had now for the time first found 
his pinions strong enough to sustain his weight; that 
with one grand swoop he had winged his glorious flight 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



199 



from the newest to the oldest land of the earth, where, 
resting for a time upon the mountain peaks of Syria, he 
would soon gather renewed strength for still more mighty 
aerial exploits ; that soon would be presented to the as- 
tonished gaze of the elfete monarchies of the old world 
the wondrous spectacle of a nation of people hitherto 
sunk in hopeless barbarism being civilized through the 
precious truths of Christianity, conveyed to them by 
the means of the ingenious implements of agriculture, 
that had already rendered our own country so famous. 
Before sitting down, she assured us that she had that 
very day received positive intelligence, not only that the 
eyes of England was upon her, but that Louis, or rather 
Louie Napoleon, as she pronounced the baptismal name 
of the present emperor of the French, was becoming 
quite uneasy about, and anxious to know what was the 
real design of the American colony in settling in Palestine. 

Having closed, she condescended to seat herself in front 
of her visitors in a large painted American rocking-chair. 
Arid swinging herself backward and forward with great 
velocity, she proceeded to inform us further upon her 
plans in Syria, which she assured us was no secret, but 
all open and above board. But before going further into 
her plans, she would, she said, tell us something of her 
own history. She had first seen the light upon the granite 
hills of New Hampshire, and that she was a grand- 
daughter of a signer of the Declaration of Independence; 
that her first husband was a wealthy Southern planter, 
who dying, she consoled herself with the society, and 
threw off her weeds in favor of the now President of the 
American Colony at Jaffa, the Rev. ftij. Adams ; that 
in 1859, while they were residing in Washington County, 
Maine, whither they had removed from St. X^ouis, 
Missouri, the Lord had called Mr. Adams to the work of 
regenerating the Holy Land, in which work they were 
now engaged. 



200 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



While Mrs. Adams was giving us this information Mr. 
Adams had entered the room and been quietly introduced. 
So long as the mere history of the enterprise was the 
subject of his wife's discourse, that gentleman was con- 
tent to remain quiet. But at last Mrs. Adams reached a 
point in her narrative where it became necessary to touch 
slightly upon the creed of the new sect. And here the 
status of that gentleman and his family became apparent. 
While Mrs. Adams was the executive branch of the 
government, and wielded the scepter of temporal power, 
it was evident that the sacerdotal mantle rested solely 
upon the shoulders of the President. If she was the 
governor, he was the priest. The profane history and 
traditions of the movement were properly within her 
control. But when it came to matters of mere faith, for 
her to interfere was to usurp the functions of his priestly 
office. This he could not permit. Mr. Adams, therefore, 
to use a California phrase, " chipped in." They had no 
creed of faith, he said, but took the " Bible and the whole 
Bible," just as it was in its purity, for their faith. That 
the reign of Christ on earth and the return of the Jews 
to Canaan are even now on the very eve of occurring. 
That it might be ten years yet before these things were 
brought about, but that it could not be longer; that he 
had made this important discovery in 1859, and had im- 
mediately set about preparing the Holy Land in advance 
for the great change, to which work he had been at the 
same, time specially called ; that it was clear to every in- 
telligent American that the country in its present condi- 
tion was not a fit place for the residence of the Jews, nor 
for the reign of the Messiah ; that it was not even 
reasonable to expect the Jews, with all their shrewdness, 
to return to a country such as was Palestine in its 
present state, nor was it quite certain that the Messiah 
himself would come unless great changes for the better 
were at least commenced ; that his call was to plant the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



201 



great and glorious institutions and introduce the wonder- 
ful agricultural inventions of our land into the future home 
of the chosen people of God ; that the true method of 
civilizing the benighted Arabs of the Sharon valley, was 
to teach them to turn up the soil with Johnson's patent 
shifting mold-board and gang-plow ; to plant grain with 
Smith's remarkable double-back-action drill, and to har- 
vest the fruits of the earth with somebody else's wonder- 
ful combined self-adjusting reaping, thrashing, sacking, 
grinding, and bolting machine. 

Having given us a brief synopsis of the new faith, Mr. 
Adams subsided, and Mrs. Adams resumed with the his- 
tory of the colony, and the difficulties she had encountered 
in its establishment. There was, she said, in their own 
ranks, a few " conspirators " who would not work, and 
who were doing what they could by lies to get the colony 
discontented ; with this discontented few they had had 
some trouble. That the American consul at Jaffa, the 
wicked and infamous Loenthal, was the monster in human 
form who had attempted in vain to stay the onward 
march of the new religion and the spread of agricultural 
improvements. Being a Jew, he of course opposed all 
Christian progress. Being a foreigner and not an Ameri- 
can, he naturally could appreciate neither the gang-plows 
of Johnson, the drill of Smith, nor the self-adjusting 
reaper, thresher, sacker, grinder, and bolter of the other 
gentleman. The wretch had from the first foreseen the 
good to the Christian cause to be produced by the move- 
ment, and had laid a plan to circumvent it. The plan of 
the wily Jew, it appeared, was in keeping with the com- 
mercial character of his people. He had made no attempt 
to oppose their entry into Palestine by force of arms ; nor 
had he by misrepresentations made to the Sublime Porte 
turned the Government against them. He had simply 
worked himself into the confidence of the simple-hearted 
President, upon the occasion of his first -visit to the East, 
9* 



202 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



at a time when that functionary was unaided by the wis- 
dom of Mrs. Adams (she being left in charge of the infant 
flock in Maine), and getting hold of the funds of the 
society as agent for the purchase of lands, embezzled the 
money. The result was that when this modern May- 
flower arrived with the colony at Jaffa, they found them- 
selves without money, without scrip, and without land 
upon which to put the houses ready framed that were in 
the ship's hold. 

We had heard from others, something of this dispute 
before calling. We had been told how the ship arrived 
in October of last year with one hundred and sixty-seven 
souls on board. And how, being unprovided with shelter 
for their heads, they had been compelled to encamp down 
by the beach where six weeks of hot days, cold nights, 
and bad and insufficient food had enabled the grim mon- 
ster death to carry off seventeen of their number. But 
Mrs. Adams is a positive woman. If she were a member 
of the bar she would excell in the department of special 
pleading. She never makes statements of facts by way 
of indirection or innuendo; but direct, so as to raise a 
determinable issue. Had they had much sickness in the 
colony, we inquired ? " None in the world," was the 
prompt reply. "In this heavenly climate it is almost 
impossible to be sick. A few of the conspirators feign 
sickness to injure the cause. We had seventeen of our 
people murdered soon after we landed in the country ; 
but with that exception there have been no deaths. As 
for the pretended sickness of the 1 conspirators,' everyone 
understands that Loenthal can cure them all in an hour 
when he chooses to do so ; and he will choose to do so 
when he has no more need of their feigning sickness." 
All this she rattled off as fast as she could talk. " But," 
interrupted one of us, ''you had seventeen of your 
number murdered. Have the assassins been brought to 
justice?" "Oh," she continued in the same tone, "of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



203 



course not. It was done at the instigation of Loenthal. 
And of course he would not condemn his own accom- 
plices." But who were the murders? How were they 
assassinated? we all asked in a breath. " They were 
poisoned by one of the conspirators," answered Mrs. 
Adams, without hesitation. " The murderer is now hang- 
ing around Loenthal' s office, and is protected by him. 
The fellow became a member of the colony by imposing 
himself as a physician upon my husband. But we have 
since discovered that he is not a physician, but a free-love 
spiritualist. You see, Loenthal being determined to 
drive us from the country or kill us, aud failing in the 
first, he bribed this fellow to poison the whole colony. 
He had advanced in his nefarious project to the number 
of seventeen victims before. we discovered the scheme, 
when of course we soon put a stop to it. 

Having spent an hour with Mr. and Mrs. Adams, we 
rose to depart. They then conducted us to the new T house 
that was being built for the president's family. It is a 
frame building, raised upon the walls of an ancient Syrian 
fountain, and overlooking the village, the sea, the Yale of 
Sharon, with its orange-groves, and the city of Jaffa. No 
more delightful situation could be imagined. It is truly, 
as the poetic Mrs. Adams described it to us, u perfectly 
heavenly." The house covered part of the basin of the 
fountain, and the balance is reserved to be used as a bap- 
tismal font, the society believing in immersion as the 
Scriptural method of exercising that sacrament. The 
house was almost completed ; the plasterers being at work 
in the main parlor, and the roofers engager] in putting on 
the mastic, which, with the timber, had come in the ship 
from New York. A dozen "non-conspiring" mechanics 
were patiently working away upon the house of the 
" Priest-President," as we entered. They simply looked 
up and bowed to us as we passed, and went on with their 
labor. If they had each been working as special con- 



904 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



tractors, they could not have plied their vocation more 
diligently. Both Mr. and Mrs. Adams descanted in the 
hearing of the workmen, in loud and majestic voices, upon 
their plans for the future, and especially upon the com- 
fort and even the grandeur in which they would live and 
entertain guests in the new house when completed. 
Meanwhile, the patient, plodding lay-brothers spread on 
their mortar, and drove in the nails, in perfect but silent 
acquiescence with all that was said. 

Upon returning to Jaffa, we called upon the consul, Mr. 
Loenthal, hoping to hear something of the other side of 
the story, but did not at that time. He is not a consul, 
but simply the agent of General Beaubichy, the consul at 
Jerusalem. I hear Mr. Loenthal spoken well of by all 
that know him, outside of the colony at Jaffa, and would 
not be surprised if the facts in the end should prove him 
to be k ' more sinned against than sinning." Meantime, it is 
exceedingly difficult to get hold of any really disinterested 
statement of the difficulty. The affair has become a sort 
of party strife in Jaffa, each man taking the side of Loen- 
thal or the Colony, according to his personal prejudices or 
religion. The Franciscan brother w r ho waited upon us at 
the convent assured me that many of the Colony were in 
extreme want, and had come to the convent to beg for 
bread ; that Mr. Adams was a common drunkard ; and 
that Mrs. Adams was the real governor of the society. I 
do not believe that the good brother intentionally misrep- 
resented the facts, but can not say how much he may 
have been imposed upon by the biased statements of oth- 
ers. There appears to be no doubt that a portion of the 
colony are much discontented, and wish to return to 
America. And there appears to me to be equally good 
grounds for thinking that there are some others who are 
satisfied, and, perhaps, even pleased with their condition, 
and intend to remain in Palestine. 



CHAPTER XVII. 



GOING IJP TO JERUSALEM. 

The distance from Jaffa to Jerusalem is about thirty- 
six miles, and ought ordinarily to be traveled in six hours. 
It takes fourteen, and hard work at that. There is not a 
wheeled vehicle in all Palestine. Since the days when 
Abraham came a young sheik from Mesopotamia, no 
more ingenious contrivance for carrying his descendants 
from one part of the country to another has been thought 
of than that which brought him and his household gods 
from the banks of the Euphrates. Nor is there so much 
as one consecutive mile of road upon which a cart could 
safely be drawn in the whole land, from Dan to Beer- 
sheba. The well-to-do are content to be borne by the 
strong ass, the rich and great affect the noble cousin of 
that patient beast. Camels, so common in Egypt and 
Asia Minor, are not so much used in Palestine. 

It was ten o'clock in the day when we mounted, our 
animals at the convent gate and set off for the holy city. 
It is not usual to attempt the trip in one single clay ; but 
the journey is divided in such manner that the party rests 
the first night at Ranileh, twelve miles from Jaffa, going 
on to Jerusalem the following day. Parties unprovided 
with camping equipage always do this, stopping at the 
Convent of the Franciscans for the night. We had 
taken a dragoman, which is the technical phrase among 
travelers for being taken by one of that profession. For 
the sum of seven dollars and a half per day each, that 



206 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



worthy furnished us tents, food, and transportation about 
the country. As we had discovered that a good part of 
his profits were to be made by boarding us at convents 
without paying any thing, we determined not to put up 
at Ramleh, but to proceed to the foot of the mountains 
and then encamp. 

The road for half the distance to Jerusalem passes 
through the richest valley of Canaan — the Plain of 
Sharon. The soil, stirred once a year with the bent root 
of a tree, drawn by a single ox, yields with an abun- 
dance that proves the richness of the soil and the geni- 
ality of the climate. For two miles out of Jaffa, the 
luxuriant groves of orange, pomegranate, and fig trees 
shut out the lovtdy sweep of country to the right and 
left. But all at once these are passed, and the undu- 
lating vale and rugged mountains of Judea beyond rise 
up to view. The road in the valley is wide and good for 
the purpose to which, from the habits of the people, it 
can alone be put — that is to say, for a pack-trail. It is 
beyond doubt the same road that has traversed the val- 
ley during the whole historic period — the same over 
which the camels tramped that bore the cedar-wood of 
King Solomon, and the same over which Simon Peter 
and the other disciples walked forth to carry the gospel 
to all nations ; and, so changeless are the customs of this 
people, that jone who passed over the road then could 
scarcely mistake it now. 

But the progressive character of the nineteenth century 
has stamped itself even upon this ancient pathway. 
The road of Solomon and of Samson, of Judas Mac- 
cabeus and Simon Peter, has been marked by the inven- 
tive genius of America. The poles and wires of the 
magnetic telegraph mark and bound the slender trail 
that leads from the ancient city of Jerusalem to the sea. 
I thought I detected a look of triumphant interrogation 
in the face of the plowman by my side as I stood beneath 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



207 



the wire, as much as to say, " What do you think of us 
Syrians now? "Behold what our genius and enter- 
prise has accomplished, and imagine if you can what will 
be the next triumph of our inventive faculties." There 
was some talk of the dangers to travelers over this road 
from the wandering Bedouins. But whatever it might 
be ordinarily, I don't see how at this time it could be 
otherwise than safe. 

The road was filled from morn till night with pilgrims 
— all Russians — dressed in the thick cowhide boots of 
Finland and Livonia. The sun shone as brightly as in 
America on a May morning, and the green grass, decked 
with the roses of Sharon, carpeted the earth from moun- 
tain to sea. Yet the sight of these hyperboreans in cos- 
tume fitted for a Siberian midwinter, caused a sympathetic 
shiver to run through every nerve. Twenty thousand of 
these people will be in Jerusalem within a month. This 
is the advance guard — the strongest and most forehanded 
— who hurry forward to secure the best places before the 
city is filled up. They have been on the road two months, 
and are correspondingly travel-worn. They are of all 
ages, sexes, and conditions. Every member of the Greek 
church feels it to be a duty at least once during life to 
make this sacred pilgrimage. Formerly the whole jour- 
ney was made by land, and on foot, the pilgrims following 
the road that Peter the Hermit and the first Crusade took 
coming around the great sea. Now the steamships 
that ply between the Levant and Black Sea ports have 
enabled the pious travelers to greatly economize time- 
But from Jaffa to Jerusalem it is considered a religious 
duty for all, regardless of condition, to make the journey 
on foot. No excuse is allowed, save that of actual sick- 
ness or physical inability. Of the hundreds we passed 
going up, we saw but two mounted. And they, as if to 
compromise the weakness as far as possible, had selected 
the sorriest donkeys that could be found in all Palestine. 



208 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



The women appeared as strong and active as the men, and 
went forward to the work with even more eagerness than 
the stronger sex. All seemed absorbed in the idea of the 
early completion of the sacred duty and a rest at the holy 
shrines. It was seldom that in passing we could get 
from one of them a nod or look that admitted the fact of 
our existence. They looked steadily ahead, and trudged 
on their weary way. Several times I. reined up in front 
of the stout pedestrians and attempted a conversation. 
Stopping a pilgrim and pointing my finger energetically 
at his breast, I would call out in a tone of interrogation, 
" Russ ?" but, turning out of the path and passing forward 
on the route, there would be but one word of reply, and 
the conversation was finished. "Russ!" would be the 
short but decisive answer, and the pious subject of the 
Czar of all the Russias would be again on the road to 
Jerusalem. 

Though the principal part of the soil of the Sharon 
Valley is cultivated, the traveler, in passing through, looks 
in vain for the habitations of the husbandmen. All live in 
villages hid away in some inaccessible cliff or rock. 
Unless the laborer is actually at work in the field, you see 
but little evidence of his existence. Save your own com- 
pany and the throng of Russians that plodded the route 
to the holy shores, the road was deserted. 

It is in the valley that the finest flowers of Palestine 
are found. The Son of Man was likened to the Rose of 
Sharon and the Lily of the Valley. Both abound along 
the route to Jerusalem, and were in full bloom as we 
passed. The flower that is conceded to have been the 
Rose of Sharon of the Sacred Scriptures, is not a rose, 
nor does it belong to that family of blooming beauties. 
It is a modest blossom seeking no extrinsic advantages of 
altitude or location, but grows upon a humble plant not 
higher than the green sward that is its unobtrusive set- 
ting. It is red as the rose known with us, as the " Giant 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



209 



of Battles," and as large, but with only a single fringe of 
petals. The exact counterpart of the Rose of Sharon, in 
all save color, blooms in February or March all over the 
fields and in the valleys of California. Who does not re- 
member the very queen of sward flowers, with its elegant 
orange tint, that blooms, a dozen in each tuft of grass, 
along the road to the Ocean House and Lone Mountain. 
Color this with the hues of the Giant of Battle Rose, and 
the companion of the Lily of the Valley is a California 
flower. It is very probable that the Rose of Sharon is 
cultivated in the San Francisco gardens. My experience 
in Europe has been that whatever is good or beautiful 
here has been long since introduced to our people by the 
enterprise of those whose business it is to look after such 
things. But I was so much pleased with this that I 
extracted a promise from the lay brother of the convent 
to send me a package of the seed from the garden of the 
brotherhood as soon as the plant had matured. 

At two o'clock we reached the convent at Ramleh. 
Two brothers stood on the wall looking over at us, as if 
to inquire whether we meant peace or war. The grim 
gates that had turned back the infidel for so many cen- 
turies, were strong enough to bid defiance to our little 
party, had our designs been ever so hostile. Scander, our 
dragoman, thought we had gone far enough for the day. 
We knew better. Once within the hospitable walls of 
the convent, we should have reveled upon the fat of the 
land. Coffee and lemonade to refresh and cool us, eggs to 
make us strong, and strained honey without reserve, would 
have been lavished upon the wayfarers. But to the Syr- 
ian dragoman all would have been gain, to the convent 
and to the travelers all loss. We had tried this experi- 
ment at Jaffa the night before, and found that to leave 
the place with decent standing, we must pay again to the 
good monks, after having once doubly paid the dragoman 
to whom we had sold ourselves. 



210 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



A short furlong beyond Ramleh stands a fountain, put 
there probably in Bible days. It is fifty feet square at 
base, and built of solid stone and cement. Here we 
stopped to rest. Down from the village the girls came in 
troops, with water-jars to fill and bear away upon their 
heads. The garden, hedged, with prickly pears, comes 
down to the very corner of the well, and through this 
runs the road. A score or more of damsels stood chat- 
ting at the well as we rode up, some with empty jars and 
some with them filled. The filled jars did not serve to 
start the fair water-carriers home, much more than did the 
empty ones. Gossip is as sweet in the East as it is tow- 
ard the setting sun. When we arrived the chattering 
ceased, and our party became the central object of attrac- 
tion. Those who had not filled the jars waited, and those 
who had already done so lingered gazing and balancing 
upon their fair heads the liquid burden all the time we 
stopped. Twenty Rebecca's stood before us. They may 
have been each as fair as the daughter of Bethuel, the son 
of Milcah. We could not tell ; for according to the cus- 
tom of the people, not changed since the day that beauty 
watered the camels of Abraham's eldest servant, their 
faces were covered and we saw them not. 

From our resting-place beneath the walls of Ramleh to 
the mountain, was a sharp ride of three hours. It was 
quite dark when we reached the camp. But we found 
that the tents had been all put in place, the beds made, 
and dinner ready to serve. The first night in a tent has 
been described in prose and in poetry a hundred times. 
So often, in fact, that those who have not experienced its 
beauties understand them as well as those who have. I 
shall sum up its excellencies in one sentence, and believe 
that all who, like me, have " crossed the Plains," will 
agree that it is complete and accurate. The first night 
of tent life is the best night of tent life. Our tent had 
been pitched in a valley by the road-side. Directly 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



211 



opposite was the only house or habitation within sight of 
the place. It was an Arabian khan, a thing which unites 
the features of the cafe with that of a restaurant, stable, 
and inn. There was but one room to the whole place. 
On one side was a blazing fire ; around which a dozen 
Arabs were seated cross-legged on the floor, smoking, 
drinking coffee, and listening to one of their number, 
who was evidently a "story-teller." The human in- 
habitants of the place took up about one-fourth of the 
room. The balance was filled with horses and donkeys. 
Eight horses were ranged with their heads tied to the 
wall. These were, besides, fastened by another rope 
around each hind foot, and this to posts driven in the 
ground. To use a nautical phrase, they were " moored 
head and stern." With true Oriental apathy, but a mo- 
mentary glance was all that was bestowed upon me as I 
entered. The tale of the story-teller was of more im- 
portance than the entry of a Frankish traveler. The 
landlord came to me with his coffee-pot, the size of a 
thimble, to know if my wants took the direction of that 
beverage. But they did not. Dinner was ready, and I 
returned to the tent to partake of it. 

When we retired to bed it was evidently the settled 
opinion of every one of the party, that of all modes of 
jife that had ever been thought of, tent life was the one 
the best calculated to produce perfect happiness. And 
further, that of the different circumstances under which 
tent life could be followed, that of tent life in the Holy 
Land came the nearest to absolute perfection. The dinner 
was good, the beds were soft, the air was balmy, and all 
nature seemed to join in a general design to make us com- 
fortable and happy. Dinner being finished, we all went to 
bed. The best tent had been set aside for the ladies. 
The gentlemen " roughed it " in a larger but rather older 
and more used-up affair. 

About one o'clock I was awakened by the roaring of 



212 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the wind. It had already increased to the force of a hur- 
ricane. The Arabs understand the making and putting 
up of tents to perfection. No people can do it better. 
Ropes as strong as need be are put in every direction and 
well staked into the ground. The dragoman and his 
assistants were already up on the side, hammering away 
at the ladies' tent with new pegs and ropes, trying to save 
the frail edifice from demolition. It was, however, obvious 
that cordage could not stand the pressure of the tempest 
long unless the wind should abate. At last one side of 
our tent wns driven in, the pegs having been pulled 
bodily out of the ground. The canvas and ropes attached 
instantly fluttered in the wind and came down upon me 
with the force of a dozen cat-o'-nine-tails all in one. If I 
had never crossed the Plains I should have gotten out of 
bed at once. But I had learned, in making that trip, 
never to get out of bed on account of any such accidents. 
As a rule, any thing that disturbs you will, sooner or later, 
disturb your companions, and the chances of some one of 
them being obliged to turn out is increased or diminished 
in proportion as your company is more or less numerous. 
Our company consisted of four gentlemen, all of whom 
were sleeping, or pretended to sleep, within six feet of 
where I lay. They were, therefore, I argued, at that mo- 
ment undergoing flagellations similar to that which was 
then coming down with such fury upon myself, or soon 
would be. The chances of some one of them tumbling 
out to repair damages amounted to almost absolute cer- 
tainty. I therefore held on, and the event, I will say to 
the credit of myself, attested the wisdom of my course. 
Capt. T. had been in early life a sea-faring man. A storm 
to him was therefore naturally a thing requiring some 
attention and care. The side of the tent next to him soon 
followed the example of mine. He was instantly out of 
bed, and, calling help from the Arabs, put the matter to 
rights. There was, I will say, a certain degree of princi- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



213 



pie involved in my conduct. The General was in the tent 
and lay quite near to me. He also had crossed the Plains. 
In doing so he had naturally learned, as I had done, never 
to get up until he was obliged to do so. Knowing this 
fact I rather suspected him of waiting, after'the canvas 
began to beat our bed, to see if I would not go out and 
fasten it up. 

By this time it was three o'clock in the morning. The 
Russian pilgrims, who had been scattered along the road- 
side under their blankets, being driven out by the storm, 
began to struggle up the valley on their way to Jerusa- 
lem. Mr. Thebault- an American gentleman from New 
York, with his wife, who had camped a mile down the 
road, had struggled out from beneath their prostrate can- 
vas, and were also facing the tempest. We heard them go 
past. Though twenty miles to Jerusalem, over rocks and 
precipices, it was better to go forward than to stay where 
they were. We were more fortunate in our situation 
than they had been. We were at the very foot of the 
mountain, and the wind was partially broken by it, or we 
should also have been without a shelter. But though our 
tents really stood up, there was no such thing as sleep for 
us. The war of the wind, the jumping of the horses, the 
cries of the Arabs, who were outside trying to keep the 
tents firm, prevented any thing like repose. 

At daylight w r e were all out and sheltered behind the 
wall of the Arab cafe, which served to partially break the 
violence of the wind. From this point to Jerusalem, 
over the mountains, the road is more diflicult than any 
pack trail in the mountains of California. The moun- 
tains are literally roofed over with huge granite, de- 
tached rocks, heaped and piled over each other. The 
path has been followed continually since the days of 
Abraham and Lot, and it is not probable that during 
that whole time one single stone has ever been pitched 
out of it. For twenty miles the most sure-footed horse 



214: GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



or donkey can get along only by picking his way step by 
step over the stones and at a slow walk. To add to our 
troubles, we set out in the face of a gale of wind that 
came down from the bare rocky slope of the mountains 
so strong that it was with the utmost difficulty that we 
could sit upon our horses. Mr. Thebault's party, whose 
camp had been broken up in the night, proceeded on, and 
arrived (the female portion more dead than alive) at 
Jerusalem at eleven o'clock. 

Fortunately for us, the wind partially abated by the 
middle of the day. By that time we were at Kirjath- 
Jearim, where we halted for lunch. This was one of the 
cities of the Gibeonites, and stood on the southwest angle 
of the territory of Benjamin. Under a league, into 
which they beguiled the Children of Israel, these were 
not put to death, but were suffered to live and to become 
the hewers of wood and drawers of water unto all the 
congregation." Here it was that " the Ark of the Lord 
was brought and remained for twenty years." The repu- 
tation of the place is none of the best. The family of 
Aba Ghaush still resides at Kirjath-Jearim, although 
that daring bandit chieftain was long since shot by the 
Turkish Government. The valley or mountain gorge 
beyond the town produces a few vines and still more 
ancient-looking olive-trees. For a mile down the road, 
as we passed out, we met crowds of girls bringing in the 
lately clipped branches of this tree for fuel. Each one 
with a burden proportioned to her years and strength, 
nicely balanced on her head, followed in single file after 
the other. The tall damsel of fifteen stalked along with 
a bundle that would have done credit to a hay-cart in 
America, while little bright-eyed babies of six years 
waddled along, proud of carrying a few dozen tiny 
switches. None of these had their faces covered, but all 
were dressed after the manner of the Jews. And here 
the wonderful continuity of this race was evident, for 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 215 

the little "fuel-gatherers of Kirjath-Jearim. though clothed 
in a single robe of "blue cotton cloth bound at the waist, 
each preserved the dark eye, the clear brown skin and 
handsome oval features of the daughters of Israel, as 
they are seen in Paris. Xew York, or San Francisco. 
Xo disguise of mere dress could conceal their extraction. 
Remove the burden from the head of any one of the little 
laborers, dress her in European costume, and sit her 
down in Xew York, and she would pass for a handsome 
Jewess and a native of America. 

From Kirjath-Jearim to Jerusalem is a three hours' 
ride. The road, as it approaches the holy city, becomes 
even more stony and rough. The country, if such a 
thing were possible, becomes at each step more and more 
rugged and inhospitable. At Kirjath-Jearim the sum- 
mit of the mountains is reached, and from that place on 
the road runs along the elevated ridges at a height equal 
to the loftiest part, and which altitude is maintained 
quite up to the Damascus gate, at which we entered. A 
mile out of Jerusalem we met two horsemen riding over 
the rocks at a break-neck speed. On entering the holy 
city for the first time, the mind naturally turns to Bible 
associations and sacred subjects. Many opinions were 
hazarded as to who the riders would prove to be. " The 
driving is like the driving of Jehu, the son of Ximshi, 
for he d rivet h furiously," quoted some of the company, 
more familiar with Holy Writ than the others ; but be- 
fore another suggestion could be made, they drew near 
and declared themselves. 

They proved to be the rival landlords of the Damascus 
and Mediterranean Hotels on their way to secure us as 
guests. Xot content with enlisting the Americans of the 
Jaffa Colony in their behalf, their enterprise sends them 
out upon the road to look for custom. Verily, the land 
of Ji dea is not so far behind the rest of the world as 
people have imagined. By the time the enterprising 



216 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



hotel-keepers had opened up the business, the party had 
come in sight of Jerusalem. I should have received some 
very fine and sentimental impressions upon first seeing 
the city, if the landlords had not pounced upon us just as 
they did. But they were both Germans, and somehow or 
another there is a realism — a hard practical sort of an air 
about a German — that throws cold water over and cools 
down all sentimentality whenever he conies in contact with 
it. They were not only both Germans, but Germans that 
spoke English ; and they spoke their English and talked 
about their respective hotels in just the same tone and 
language, and used the same arguments for and against, 
that I have so often heard hammered into the ears of the 
honest miner coming from Sacramento laden with gold 
dust. To make a long story short, we entered Jerusalem 
through the Damascus gate, in company with both the 
Dutchman from the Mediterranean and the Dutchman 
from the Damascus hotel. And inasmuch as the Ameri- 
can colonist at Jaffa, mentioned in the last chapter, had 
recommended us to go to the Damascus, and inasmuch as 
we had all promised him not only to do so, but to men- 
tion to the landlord of the Damascus that we did so at 
his request, we went to the Mediterranean with the 
Dutchman who kept that excellent establishment, and all 
put up in his house. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



THE HOLY CITY. 

It is not over five hundred feet from the Damascus 
gate to the door of the Mediterranean Hotel ; yet before 
that space was traversed I had made the discovery that 
the modern appearance of Jerusalem was as different 
from that of all other cities as its history and associations 
are strange and peculiar. The first impression obtained 
of this city is, that it has not been built by beings such 
as now inhabit this earth. It has a sort of pre-Adamite 
air, as if the human family had moved into it ready fur- 
nished as their first effort in the housekeeping way. The 
people that move up and down its streets of old red 
sandstone antiquity, or issue from the vaulted houses of 
lower silurian formation, look anomalous and out of place. 
Droves of laden camels perform the duty that should be 
confided to the mastadons of an age more in keeping 
with what is seen in the streets, and men are seen am- 
bling past upon donkeys, when the megatherium or the 
iguanodon would seem a more appropriate steed. Engi- 
neering research in aid of Bible lore is strangely misplaced 
where geological science seems the only learning that can 
throw light upon the past. The site of Jerusalem was 
evidently chosen by reason of the facility with which it 
could be fortified and defended. It was intended from 
the first as the great stronghold and fortress of a whole 
nation. It is upon the very highest point of a wide range 
of mountainous country — a country so wild and rugge(|, 
10 



218 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

so bleak mad inhospitable, that it is not probable that a 
timber tree has grown within thirty miles of it since the 
creation of the world. But if such flourished within five 
miles or even less of its gates, they would be practically 
inaccessible from the indescribably rough character of the 
country, rendering passable roads out of the question. 

But if trees do not flourish in Jerusalem, stone abounds 
in quantities unknown elsewhere. Of all the houses in the 
city not one can boast of so much as a stick of timber or 
a plank in the composition of its walls, its floors, or its 
roof. All is stone and mortar. Even the windows are 
reduced to the size of mere air holes, to the end that 
wood for the frames may be economized. In building a 
new house, fresh stones are brought from the quarry in 
preference to stone of the demolished structure. But 
the doors of a mansion are preserved with care, as long 
as art and ingenuity can make them hold together, and 
pass from house to house during all time. The steps up 
from the street are not more stone than those which lead 
out upon the roof of the house, and the stairs to the 
smallest bedroom are of the same unyielding material. 
For ten hours before reaching the holy city the whole 
land is strewed with stones in strata and out of strata, 
singly and in heaps, small and large, from the tiniest 
pebble to the huge bowlder, that has not stirred from its 
firm bed since the stars sang together. And stony as is 
the aspect of the approaches to the holy city, the city 
itself is not surpassed by its surroundings. 

There is in Jerusalem no such thing as that which we 
call a street. As for wheeled vehicles there is not one in 
Palestine. The gates of Jerusalem do not pass directly 
through and at right angles with the wall, as is the case 
with other walled towns. But at each one of these, and 
directly over and around it, is erected a strong fortress 
for its protection. The road comes first up at the outer 
gate and then turns abruptly to the right or left, passing 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



219 



through a second and interior wall before reaching the 
city. jSTo wagon could make this passage, even if such 
a thing were known to Jerusalem. Donkeys, horses, and 
camels thread their careful way over the stones, rough 
and smooth, that pave this tortuous entrance. The road 
that passes through the Damascus gate, like all in Jeru- 
salem, is paved with uneven flat stones from wall to wall, 
sidewalks being unknown here. It is as wide as any in 
the city, say about twelve or fourteen feet. The descent 
from the gate down the road is considerable ; but one hun- 
dred feet within the gate the road breaks off abruptly and 
a flight of fifteen or twenty wide steps conduct to the 
lower level, and again the route continues. At the bottom 
of the steps, which are not so steep as to prevent animals 
from passing up and down, but which would bring a 
wagon or carriage to a sudden and final stop, the road 
branches, the right going to Mounts Calvary and Zion, 
and the left to Mount Moriah. Following the left branch 
thirty feet, it passes under the houses a hundred feet or 
more; and here, beneath the gloom and damp of the stone 
arches that support the ancient houses of Jerusalem, is 
the entrance to the Mediterranean Hotel. The right 
branch, toward Calvary, passes the Damascus Hotel, and 
then dives beneath a row of houses, winding about among 
stone arches, like great caverns, for hundreds of feet, finally 
coining out in the sunlight near the church of the Holy 
Sepulcher. 

A considerable portion of the thoroughfares of Jeru- 
salem are spanned by the arches of houses. Often the 
vaulted cover to the street is so low that the passer 
is obliged to stoop down in getting through. In one 
place I remember walking for a considerable distance, cer- 
tainly fifty feet, in a half bent position. It may be said 
that the sun never penetrates below the tops of the roofs 
of Jerusalem. The houses can never be perfectly free 
from dampness. The place, notwithstanding its elevated 



220 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



location, has earned the name of being very unhealthy. 
Those families that are able to do so, leave in the sum- 
mer, and take up their residence in tents pitched in other 
parts. There can be but one reason for this — the damp 
state of the walls and streets, in fact, of every habitable 
part of the city. 

The walls of Jerusalem are very imposing in appear- 
auce. The houses are low, being generally but two 
stories high, and the walls stand higher than the houses 
within. They impress the stranger from the first with the 
idea that they are too large for the town ; and this impres- 
sion is well founded. They are made of large dressed 
brown stone, and are ornamented all around with a sort of 
pointed finish that gives them a handsome as well as for- 
midable appearance. But the strength of the walls of 
the holy city is in appearance only. Though high, they 
are by no means correspondingly heavy or thick, and it 
is probable that a single discharge of artillery would 
tumble them down. But how would the artillery be 
brought to within range, is a question bearing consider- 
ably upon their value in the defense of the place. The 
thirty miles of rocky passes and mountainous declivities 
between Jerusalem and the sea are a substantial buttress 
that does more to defend the walls than they can do for 
the town itself. 

The situation of Jerusalem is as romantic and pictu- 
resque as it is formidable in a strategic point of view. It 
is built upon the brow or termination of a high ridge that 
runs down eastwardly almost without interruption for 
many leagues from the direction of the plains of Sharon 
and Philistia. But one side of the town, the north, can 
be easily approached. This is along the level of the 
ridge, and on this side is the Damascus gate. But here 
the ridge narrows off to the width of a half-mile, and 
upon the point the city is built. The sides of the ridge 
are precipitous and deep. The one on the east, and 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



221 



dividing the town from the Mount of Olives, is called the 
Valley of Jehoshapbat, and through it flows the brook 
Kidron. The valley on the west is also deep and rocky. 
It is the Valley of Hinnom. The walls follow the edge 
of the declivity. All around Jerusalem there are still 
higher summits than the ridge upon which it stands, but 
none that appear mountainous, so great is the elevation 
of the whole country ; but there are several rounded 
irregular ridges overtopping the city by a few hundred 
feet, and looking down upon its highest points. 

On the east, and the loftiest of the range, is the triple 
top of the Mount of Olives, its terraced sides rising 
abruptly from the opposite side of the Valley of Jehosh- 
aphat. On the north, and overhanging the Valley of Hin- 
nom, rises the Hill of Evil Counsel, not unaptly named 
from its association with the traitor Judas. The best 
view of Jerusalem is obtained from the Mount of Olives. 
And it is from this point that pictures of the Holy City 
are generally taken. But an indifferent sight is obtained 
on entering it from Jaffa. A few buildings, such as the 
Russian Hospice, fill up the way, and the great churches 
and mosques that are so world-renowned, are not seen 
from this route. Almost the very first building reached 
in the vicinity of Jerusalem, coming in from Jaffa, is of 
stone, in modern style, and occupied by the American 
consul. It is a half mile without the walls. The stars 
and stripes were floating over it the day we entered, and 
received from the little party a cheer, fervent if not noisy. 

On looking about the Mediterranean Hotel we had no 
reason to regret having followed its landlord instead of 
his rival. The house is as cheerful as one of solid stone 
from cellar to lightning-rod can be expected to be. Be- 
sides it was without a single guest until we arrived — 
not a bad state of things for those who come, whatever 
it may be for the proprietor. We had the choice of 
rooms. The house had been cleared out the day before, 



222 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



up to which time, for the space of a fortnight past, it had 
been filled with a party of Americans. They had departed 
for Damascus. And again it was to be reopened with 
guests of the same nationality. We were shown rooms 
as they were called. Dungeons would be the name in 
any other country : one iron-bound door, two feet wide 
and five feet high, opening into a place twelve feet square, 
all in solid stone — sides, floor, and ceiling. One opening, 
three feet square, served for a window, and this in a 
wall as thick as the window was wide. It must be a 
most benevolent ray of sunlight that would venture into 
such a place, we thought, and the thought was correct, 
for none came while we were there. 

The whole air and appearance of Jerusalem is inex- 
pressibly sad and mournful. The people are broken down 
with poverty or discouraged by Turkish oppression. The 
holy city is one of the very few towns on the globe which 
is wholly without a well-to-do class. It has scarcely a 
prosperous individual. I never saw a clean or well- 
dressed resident in the street. The ragged and dirty 
habiliments worn by the people are infallible tests of the 
wretchedness of this community. Even the merchants 
go in very tatters, while the poor are naked to a de- 
gree that passes the bounds not only of comfort but of 
decency. 

It was about four o'clock when we got settled in our 
rooms. But I immediately sallied forth to take, alone, if 
possible, a preliminary glance at the place. But no 
Frankish traveler ever escapes alone from a public-house 
in the East. The lunatic might as well try to get away 
without an attendant, or the condemned prisoner without 
the jailer. He is fortunate if but one guide follows him. 
I had the good fortune to escape without attracting the 
attention of more than one of these fellows. He followed 
and offered his services, speaking only French. He was 
a Syrian boy who had been brought up at one of the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 223 



religious establishments of the Franciscans, and was, he 
said, dragoman to that house. I did not want him, but, 
as usual, that was of but little consequence to the drago- 
man. He had nothing to do, and would go along gratui- 
touslj'. We turned to the right a hundred paces from 
the hotel and passed under a low vaulted way for as 
much farther, then up a slight declivity a few steps, and 
into an open court filled with people of all nations and 
various dresses. Fifty old women, some with faces 
bare and others veiled, were squatted along either wall, 
engaged in commerce. They were selling beads of olive 
wood and crosses of the same material, incense and other 
precious or sacred wares. The customers were not more 
numerous than the tradeswomen, but represented nation- 
alities at the very ends of the earth. The heavy-booted 
and fur-clad Muscovite stood haggling for a cross or bone, 
elbowing against the dark-eyed Armenian from the head- 
waters of the Euphrates. 

I stood in the midst of an army of Christian pilgrims 
upon Mount Calvary, and the building before me was the 
Church of the Holy Sepulcher. There is little in the 
topography of the spot claimed as the place of the cruci- 
fixion to indicate it as worthy of the name of a hill or 
mount. It is almost in the very center of Jerusalem, and 
upon the side of the gradual ascent or slope of the hill 
called Zion. The door was closed when we arrived, and 
could not be opened, we were told, till five o'clock. In 
the mean time, to my surprise, a crowd began to collect, 
among which were many priests. These seemed to be as 
powerless to enter the sacred place as ourselves. But 
the mystery w r as soon explained. The holy place is the 
joint property of the three Christian churches of Greece, 
Rome, and Armenia. All of these hate and despise 
each other to a degree beyond all description. The first 
article of Catholic faith in the East is to fear God ; the 
second, to hate the Greek church ; and the others re- 



224 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



ciprocate the feeling fully. I believe there have been 
instances of the rival priests murdering each other in the 
sacred edifice. The consequence is that they can not 
trust each other alone in any part of the building; and 
probably in this both are right, for rival acts of sacrilege 
would be mutually committed the one upon the other. The 
keys of the church are therefore kept by Mohammedan 
infidels in order that Christians may not cut each others' 
throats at the door of the Sepulcher. So long has this been 
the case, that a prescriptive right has grown up in a certain 
Mohammedan family at Jerusalem, to be custodians of 
the key of the church of the Holy Sepulcher — and this 
to the entire satisfaction of the Christians that worship 
there; for each one would rather a Turk would have 
it than one of the rival sects. The Government would 
willingly accord the privilege to the Christians if they 
could agree upon the matter, but there is always what in 
America we would call a two-third vote against its being 
given to any particular denomination. Would the Gov- 
ernment give the key to the Catholics, the Greeks and 
Armenians unite in a protest, while an offer of the privi- 
lege to the Greeks would bring the oil of Romanism into 
chemical combination with the water of Armenianism. 
Their hands would be held up to heaven in horror at con- 
fiding the keys of the Sepulcher to the care of men who 
vied in wickedness with the imps of Satan. 

After an hour of patient or impatient waiting on the 
part of the crowd, depending upon whether they were 
bead merchants or pilgrims, a portly old Turk marched 
solemnly down to the door, and with great deliberation, 
and no little dignity, turned the key. The doors are iron- 
bound, and almost as solid as the walls, but the heaving 
of the crowd soon pushed them in. I was among the first 
to enter, but was glad enough to turn aside into a recess, 
where the old turnkey kept himself, while the crowd 
passed into the church. This process, however, was slow, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 225 



for the entrance is not wide, and in the very center of it, 
facing the door, is placed the 4 ' stone of unction." This is 
a flat slab of marble, set up about a foot from the floor and 
surrounded by a low railing, and a place to kneel. This 
is the traditional stone upon which the body of Christ, 
after the crucifixion, was laid to be anointed. It is, there- 
fore, an object of adoration to Christians, and all the de- 
nominations I have named make it a point to stop here, 
and, kneeling, kiss this stone repeating their prayers. 
Enough did this to stop the way for some little time. But 
the others struggled so fiercely that it was not conveni- 
ent, if it was, indeed, safe, to stop long, so the prayers 
were greatly shortened, and in five minutes all had made 
their way past and were scattered about the vast build- 
ing or worshiping in the chapels of their respective faiths. 

The church, if a series of rotundas, chapels, naves, and 
aisles, worshiped in by three hostile religions, may be so 
called, is large, but in a condition of decay approaching 
absolute ruin. Just now the dome that covers the sepul- 
cher is undergoing complete repair. In fact, it is being 
substantially rebuilt, and by no other than that elder son 
of the church, Napoleon III., emperor of the French. It 
was, when we entered, completely filled with scaffolding, 
and the hammer of the French artisan, with his blue cot- 
ton blouse, rang and reverberated through the vaulted 
naves and under the groined roofs of Constantine the 
Great. In the very center of this rotunda stands the 
Holy Sepulcher. It is entirely inclosed, or rather, cased, 
in yellow and white stone, built around it like a sort of 
fancy baker's oven. The entrance to it is like that to the 
house of the Indians of Kamschatka ; that is, it is a low 
door, not over three and a half feet high, through which 
you almost crawl to gain admittance. Pursuing this a few 
i feet, you enter the first apartment, called the Chapel of 
the Angel, for here the angel sat on the stone that had 
been rolled away from the door of the sepulcher. In the 

]G* 



226 GOIXG TO JERICHO; OR, 



middle of the floor is this stone, still in a tolerable state 
of preservation. On one side of this gloomy antechamber 
is a lower and more narrow door, and to enter which a 
still more stooping position must be assumed. Through 
this we almost crawled, and found ourselves at last stand- 
ing before the sepulcher of our Lord. To me it was all a 
matter of surprise, for I had left the hotel, going I knew 
not whither, but certainly with no thought of visiting this 
sacred spot. I was obliged to ask the guide again if he 
w T as sure this was the place. It was ; there could be no 
manner of doubt. A priest, with the rimless hat and 
black gown of the Greek church, stood near the head of 
the stone that covered the grave. He was engaged in 
blessing beads and crosses upon the sepulcher, to be sent 
away to the faithful in remote parts — in Athens and Mos- 
cow, upon the waters of the Neva, and the Amoor, and 
perhaps in distant Sitka, so soon to be American territory. 

The room, or rather vault, of the sepulcher, is a quad- 
rangle, not more than six feet by seven, with a dome-roof 
supported on marble pillars. The sepulchral couch occu- 
pies the whole of the right side as we enter, and is raised 
about three feet above the floor. The top slab makes a 
sort of wide shell', three feet from the ground, and pro- 
jecting about that distance from the wall. On this the 
beads and sacred things are laid to be blessed in turn by 
priests of the various sects, it not being safe to allow two 
of the hostile churches within the place at the same time. 
Were they to pursue a different course, breaches of the 
peace would ensue. The space left vacant for visitors 
is so small that not above four persons can stand inside 
at any one time, and even then the air is so close as to 
make it dangerous for any but the strongest persons to 
remain long in the place. The slab of marble covering the 
sepulcher is cracked in the center and much worn by the 
lips of pilgrims, especially at the edge. It now serves as an 
altar, and is garnished w T ith a profusion of gay, or rather 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



227 



tawdry, ornaments. Over it are a great number of golden 
or gilt lamps — thirty or forty at least — which are kept burn- 
ing incessantly, while incense and fragrant perfumes fill 
the air. On great occasions, such as Christmas and East- 
er, the pilgrims make a rush to get within the sepulcher, 
and then, it appears to me, great danger must ensue to 
the lives of those assembled. It is said, and I do not see 
how it can be otherwise, that great loss of life has oc- 
curred by these crowds. There is no place for air to 
enter, except by the low and narrow entrance in the wall, 
and on such occasions this must be filled up with persons 
trying to get in and out. Add to this the vast crowd 
without, and the destruction of oxygen by the thirty or 
forty lamps, it is easy to see how this might be made 
a temporary tomb of many a worshiper. I am sure 
I did not feel safe while in the little dungeon. But let- 
ting the priest sprinkle me with perfumed holy water, 
from a pot which he kept for that purpose, I gladly threw 
him down a silver coin, and, without waiting for the 
change, hastened out to the pure air of heaven. 

It is in the sepulcher that the annual miracle of the 
"Holy Fire" is performed. On Easter Eve of each year, 
it is affirmed that a miraculous flame descends from 
heaven into the Holy Sepulcher, kindling all the lamps 
and candles there. Originally, it is said that all the 
churches participated in this affair ; but the Latins, after 
the expulsion by the Greeks, have asserted, and now 
assert, that the whole thing is an imposture. The 
Armenians also at present repudiate it, so that it remains 
alone to the Greeks. No one enters the sepulcher, at 
this time, but the bishop. But the people gather in vast 
numbers around it, and beneath the great dome of the 
rotunda. After several hours of prayer, the arrival of the 
Sacred Fire is announced at the door, and the people re- 
spond by frantic shouts of joy. But the narrow and 
crowded place leads to frequent loss of life — often by 



228 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



being trampled to death, and not unfrequently by stabs 
from the knives of rival sectarians. In the year 1834, no 
less than four hundred people were killed in a tumult that 
occurred around the sejjulcher on the occasion of the 
Holy Fire miracle. But bad as that would appear to 
those who have no faith in the affair, it has not been suf- 
ficient to prevent the annual recurrence of the miracle. 

All about and around the Holy Sepulcher, and within 
an area of thirty or forty feet of it, are stones let into the 
pavement, generally circular, occasionally star-shaped. 
These indicate the precise spots where various incidents 
occurred in connection with the crucifixion or resurrec- 
tion of our Lord, and which have been deemed worthy of 
being preserved. One indicates the spot where Christ 
stood when he appeared to Mary Magdalen in the like- 
ness of a gardener, while another, hard by, shows where 
Mary stood. The first is circular, the second is star- 
shaped. Another marks the spot where our Lord stood 
when he appeared to his mother. A little chapel to 
which you ascend by steps, shows the spot where the 
crucifix was placed, and in the pavement not far away, a 
stone indicates the spot where tiie blessed Virgin was 
stationed when the mournful event was occurring. How 
all these places have been established, is a question which 
each reader must settle for himself. 

A chapel below the main floor is built upon the spot 
where St. Helena discovered the true cross. The means 
adopted by that pious and ingenious lady to establish the 
identity of the precious relic may throw some light upon 
the evidence in favor of the location of the spots I have 
mentioned. It appears that when the empress made her 
way from Rome to Jerusalem, the true cross had lain 
unnoticed and dishonored for more than three centuries 
in a cave near to the sepulcher. That by a little 
investigation she discovered, naturally enough, not one, 
but three crosses, and the difficulty that presented itself 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



229 



was how to determine which of these three was the one 
upon which our Saviour had suffered, and which had been 
employed in the condign punishment of the two thieves. 
It was settled in this way : — A noble Roman lady was at 
the time suffering with an incurable disease. She was 
made to sit upon, or at least to touch the crosses. The 
first two produced no effect whatever, but upon the third 
being brought in contact with the invalid, she was 
instantly and miraculously restored to perfect health. 
There could be no doubt after this ordeal which was the 
genuine cross, and the fact has, I understand, been gen- 
erally believed by Catholics ever since. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



THE THRASHING-FLOOR OF ORXAN THE JEBUSITE. 

There is no point of f;rith or custom upon which the 
Mohammedans have been so tenacious as upon that of 
prohibiting the contaminating presence of unbelievers 
within their mosques and sacred places. And not until 
1856 did the prohibition give way before the avarice of a 
money-getting age. Before that year the penalty of being 
found within a mosque is said to have been death or the 
Koran. It was then decreed that upon the payment of one 
English pound the Mosque of Omar would be open to for- 
eigners for occasional examination. But the shock to the 
prejudices of that portion of the sultan's subjects which 
got no share of the bribe was so acute that the rule was 
soon changed or suspended, and no more firmans were 
issued until within the last three years. 

The Mosque of Omar, in the eyes of pious Moslems, 
ranks in sanctity second only to that of the Caaba at 
Mecca. It occupies, in their opinion, and. probably in 
fact, the precise spot upon which was the thrashing-floor 
of Oman, or Araunah, the Jebusite, where David sacrificed, 
and which afterward became the site of the great altar of 
burnt-offering. Long before this, Abraham had offered 
up his only son Isaac upon the same spot, and here upon 
the top of Moriah was afterward built the Temple of 
Solomon. To these events, equally sacred in the eyes of 
the Moslem, the Jew, and the Christian, was added th^ 
fact that from here the Prophet, mounted upon his steed 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL, 23L 



Borak, set out upon that marvelous voyage of a night, 
destined to reveal to the eyes of Mohammed the wonders, 
the beauties, and the ecstatic delights of that heaven which 
he had promised, and which he was to describe to the 
faithful. And although the terrible necessities of the 
Sublime Porte has driven it to make the concession final, 
that Christians may visit these places in safety, yet it is 
with clenched teeth and knitted brow that the true be- 
liever beholds the Giaour of the West, clothed in his 
black hat and small-legged trousers, followed by his 
brazen-faced, unveiled, and unblushing woman, strutting 
about the shrines and staring at the Kibleh, where the 
Prophet has stood, and where Omar has prayed to Allah. 

Almost the first thing done by our little California 
party, after arriving in Jerusalem, was to call upon 
General Beaubicheaux, the American consul, with a re- 
quest for permission to visit the Mosque of Omar. The 
general is a Frenchman by birth, but a naturalized 
American, who lost a leg, and obtained the rank of 
brigadier-general, during the war of the rebellion. He 
received us politely, and immediately agreed upon a day 
for the visit. His cavasse would call for us at eight 
o'clock of the third morning, accompanied with a guard 
of bashi-bazouks sufficient to insure protection. At eight 
o'clock of the morning indicated, our party was up and 
ready, prompt to the minute. But an hour slipped by 
before the consul's official appeared. He was dressed in 
Syrian trousers, embroidered jacket, and fez. He bore, 
as a symbol of his office, a long, silver-tipped staff, with 
an engraving of the American Eagle, standing upon a 
wave-beaten rock, holding the striped shield, and scream- 
ing defiance at imaginary enemies in the distance. Alto- 
gether, the cavasse was got up in a style worthy of the 
great nation of which he was the representative, and 
whose belligerent powers he intended to impress upon the 
natives of Jerusalem. But our party had been increased 



232 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



by considerable accessions, of which we knew nothing. 
All the American and English from our hotel, as well as 
from the Damascus, besides several from the Latin con- 
vents, had been added to the list by the obliging consul. 
In fact, it was to be a grand field-day for doing the 
Mosque of Omar, and all the travelers in Jerusalem were 
invited. 

A little after nine o'clock the procession formed in the 
street of the Damascus gate, its right resting upon the 
Via Doloroso, and by half-past nine the march was com- 
menced in the following order : — First, the cavasse, in his 
flowing robes, bearing his wand of office, supported on 
his right and left by two bashi-bazouks, armed with flint- 
lock muskets ; second, all the Americans and English in 
Jerusalem, to the number of thirty, male and female, in 
groups of twos and threes, bearing Bibles bound in black 
and guide-books bound in red; and finally, all the bead 
and cross sellers, Christian, Jew, and Mohammedan (but, 
of course, all claiming to be Christian), who had been able 
to get information of the intended visit, and all the people 
of all sects and denominations, ages, sexes, and conditions, 
who happened to be passing through the street or any- 
where in the neighborhood, and who immediately joined 
the expedition in the character of beggars, thieves, or 
loiterers. 

Three hundred people, without counting dogs, would 
be about a fair estimate of the army which left the street 
in front of the Mediterranean Hotel for the Mosque of 
Omar, under the leadership of the American consul's ca- 
vasse. Several of the American families had private 
dragomans whom they took with them, while others 
depended upon the cavasse, their guide-books, or chance, 
for information during the visit. Large bodies move 
slow. It was five minutes before we got to the houses 
of Dives the rich man and Lazarus the poor man, which 
are located in the street leading from the Damascus gate 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



233 



to the Mosque of Omar and near to the Yia Doloroso. 
Although the sordid conduct of this specimen of the 
ancient shoddy aristocracy of Jerusalem is mentioned as 
a parable, yet the houses of the two principal characters 
in the story are pointed out and believed in to this day. 
The house of Lazarus is quite as respectable-looking as 
that of his wealthy neighbor, and if this was really his 
house it is reasonable to conclude from the difficulty he 
encountered in obtaining food, that the raising of mon- 
ey upon mortgage was scarcely known at that remote 
period. 

At the entrance to the inclosure of the mosque a grand 
halt was called, and all were required to remove their 
shoes. In the mean time all the loungers as well as the 
habitues of the mosque and its surrounding buildings, 
such as priests, dervishes, schoolmasters and school-child- 
ren, soldiers, and hangers-on of all kinds, rushed to the 
door to stare at the Frankish visitors, and to watch every 
movement, to see that all obeyed the rules of admission. 
The firman was produced and the grand officer in charge 
of the sacred place sent for. Taking care to collect about 
two dollars each from the party in advance, he read the 
order with great dignity, and then gave the command 
that we be admitted. Some of the party had taken the 
precaution to bring slippers of cloth to put on in place of 
their boots, while others pulled stockings over them. But 
the majority had not thought of this and had to walk 
bare-footed over hundreds of yards of stone pavement in 
the open air, as well as in the mosque — for all the inclo- 
sures of the Haram are considered to be too holy to be 
pressed by the boot which has trod upon less sacred soil. 

The large open square occupying the summit of Mount 
Moriah, upon which formerly stood the Temple of Solo- 
mon, and where now stand the Mosques of Omar and El- 
Aksa, is called by the Moslems El-Haram-esh-Sherif. 
While it has the appearance of a large square, it is, in 



234 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



fact, an immense flat platform supported upon stone 
arches, these arches being the original foundations of the 
Temple, and nearly, if not quite, all that is left of that 
structure. The eastern and southeastern walls inclosing 
this square on the side of Jehoshaphat is simply the outer 
and ancient wall of Jerusalem, while the other sides are 
inclosed by the walls of the pasha's house and ancient 
walls, supposed to have been portions of the Temple, but 
which are covered and concealed from view by the mod- 
ern houses of the city. The Mosque of El-Aksa occupies 
that part of the Havana, against the southeast wall. It is 
an ancient Christian basilica built by Justinian, but seized 
by the Mohammedan caliphs at the conquest and conse- 
crated by them as a mosque. 

But the most notable structure within, the Haram is tjae 
Kubbet-es Sukhrah, ov "Rock of the Dome" — as the 
Moslems call it, but known among Chvistians as the 
" Mosque of Omar." This is almost in the center of 
the square. The praises of the dome of the Mosque of 
Omar have been sung and sung again by the hundreds of 
visitors to the holy city, till to describe it or to join in 
the chorus of its beauty would be almost necessarily to 
copy the words or ideas of others. It is certainly very 
beautiful, and worthy of all that has been said of it. But 
the beauty of this dome can not be appreciated by a visit 
to the mosque itself, but strikes the observer from the 
distant hills of Olivet ov upon the plains of the Bethlehem 
voad. Ouv party moved across the grass plat and stone 
pavement of the Haram to the door of the Mosque of 
Omar in tolerably good order. Like all mosques, this has 
but little beauty beyond that which it borrows from dis- 
tance. It is not like St. Peter's or others of the western 
churches, a stately building crowned with a dome, but 
the dome and the octagonal walls which support it are 
all there is of the structure. You are beneath the dome 
when you step within the door. We entered in a body, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 235 



following the cavasse and the priest who had charge of 
the place. 

The first thing which attracted my attention was what 
I took to be a vast pile of flour or bran, heaped up twenty 
feet high, and so large that it filled the whole floor of the 
place beneath the dome, leaving only a sort of lobby 
around the outside next to the wall, and fenced off by a 
railing. The inside of the dome itself was shut out f rom 
our view by an immense canvas cloth in the nature of an 
awning, which was stretched over the bran heap, as if to 
keep the dust or the light from it. It occurred to me at 
the first glance that the mosque had been turned into a 
house for the storing of breadstuff's in bulk. 

But I was put right almost in a moment. The sup- 
posed bran was the rock El-Sukhrah, upon which Abra- 
ham had offered to sacrifice Isaac, and where the altar of 
the burnt offerings had stood. Its white or bran-like 
appearance was from the dry dust which had accumu- 
lated, upon its surface, and which is perhaps never brushed 
off. Besides this Jewish tradition, the Moslems believe 
that it was from this rock that Mohammed commenced 
his journey to heaven, and they show the spot where 
his foot was lifted to mount his horse on that night. 
Besides, all the water of the world comes from under this 
rock, which is not supported as are other rocks, by rest- 
ing on the earth, but is upheld by miraculous power. 
When the Prophet mounted his horse to perform his noc- 
turnal journey, the rock, in acknowledgment of the dis- 
tinguished honor, bowed to him three times. In this it 
was assisted by a powerful angel, whose finger-marks, 
imbedded by the feat deep in the solid sides of the stone, 
were pointed^ out to us. But to tell of all the wonders 
of the Prophet and Allah which still exhibit themselves 
to the view of the credulous about the summit of Moriah 
would fill a whole book. 

Upon leaving the great mosque, our party began to 



236 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



break up, and to subdivide into smaller groups. Some 
who had hired special dragomans found that others 
of the company asked questions of them, and so 
took up their time from those who paid for their ser- 
vices. Others who had not procured dragomans over- 
heard, or fancied they overhead, complaints or hints 
that such conduct had been committed by them. 
This produced ill-feeling, especially among the ladies. 
Such remarks as — k< Hang the old dragoman. I don't 
want to hear any of his lying nonsense " — would be 
heard from one group; while from another, within ten 
feet of the first, such as this : u We have paid Moses (or 
Abraham or Isaac) for the whole day, and now we can't 
get near enough to him to hear a word he says." This 
sort of thing tended to divide the little Christian army 
of antique discovery, and to throw it into separate and 
independent detachments. 

Besides, in so considerable a body as our army of ex- 
ploration was, there will be a great variety of tastes, and 
these operated to separate the gathering. Some of the 
party, with Bible in hand, were anxious to dive into the 
subterranean vaults of the Haram, and search out the 
ancient stones of the temple as they stood when Solomon's 
masons finished their work. Others prepared to ramble 
about the grass plat between the great mosque and the 
eastern wall, gathering and pressing flowers from the sod 
of Moriah, to take home as souvenirs of the holy place. 
Others thought of questions to be solved from the more 
modern history of Omar's conquest of, or Baldwin's reign 
over the holy city. In the mean time others amused them- 
selves with talking to the Arab camp-followers or to the 
schoolmasters of the Haram, who had become more 
friendly by familiarity. A middle-aged lady from New 
York City, and who is not traveling upon oil dividends, 
amazed one of these pedagogues beyond the powers of 
description by pulling out and exhibiting to him all of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



237 



her upper front teeth in a bunch. " God is great and 
Mohammed is the prophet of God !" piously exclaimed 
the astonished man of learning. He gazed at her, expect- 
ing no doubt to see her under-jaw come away next. 

It was twelve o'clock before all had seen the various 
wonders of Mount Moriah, and were gathered together 
at the great gate, ready to return to the hotel. Here 
another grand distribution of backshish was gone through 
with, the Moslems of the party generally feeling them- 
selves entitled to compensation for the degree of pollu- 
tion they had undergone by the presence of the hateful 
and unclean Christians within the sacred in closure of the 
Haram-esh-sherif. 



CHAPTER XX. 



ORIENTAL LAW PRACTICE. 



A crowd of bead merchants, thirty or forty in number, 
were assembled as usual on the roof of our hotel in the 
morning, as I came out to breakfast, a good part of the 
roof of the lower stories being, as is customary in Jeru- 
salem, used for a sort of door-yard for other rooms built 
higher up. Olive-wood crosses from Olivet, beads from 
Gethsemane, and shell crucifixes from Bethlehem were 
piled in indiscriminate heaps all about the stone pave- 
ment. It took me ten minutes to convince each of these 
dealers that my piety, though of the most devoted char- 
acter, did not take the direction of accumulating these 
interesting objects. This ordeal, by the way, not only 
myself but each of our company, had to go through with 
upon the occasion of each entry or departure from our 
chamber, whether going to breakfast or upon the most 
distant journey. The bead-seller fully believes that the 
chief end of man's life is naturally devoted to coming to 
Jerusalem and purchasing beads and crosses of olive- 
wood and shell. These are afterward laid on the Holy 
Sepulcher and blessed, which gives to them an additional 
efficacy and sacred character. The chief business of 
Jerusalem, outside of keeping the holy places, is the 
manufacture of these articles. It is carried on every- 
where, in shops, in convents, and in private houses. 
Wherever you turn or look in or about the streets or 
alleys of the holy city, you are met by the bead-seller, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



239 



either engaged in making up his beads, or, with little bag 
in hand, running about to sell them. Every other shop 
in Jerusalem, is a shop for the sale of beads, and the 
whole population is as intimately connected with the 
business as that of Nantucket with the whale-fishery, or 
Wethersfield, Connecticut, with the raising of onions. 

While I was examining the stock of one of my per- 
secutors, and revolving in my mind an excuse for not 
buying, Hassan, one of Scandei^s men, came bolting up- 
stairs to inform me that my presence was wanted at the 
house of the Cadi of Jerusalem. I could not imagine 
what the cadi could possibly want with me, but as the 
summons was not. brought by the everlasting bashi- 
bazouks, I followed Hassan without apprehension. The 
road lay down the street of the Damascus gate to the 
Via Doloroso, and through that to the Pool of Bethesda, 
around which we turned and entered one of the build- 
ings upon Mount Moriah, adjoining the Haram. At one 
end of the room sat the cadi with his legs crossed upon 
a divan, the end of a nargileh stuck in his mouth and his 
eyes languidly closed. ISTo more graceful position could 
be possibly chosen for the administering of justice. The 
cadi looked every inch the judge. To the easy dignity 
and self-possession of Chief Justice Chase, he evidently 
united the erudition and legal attainments of an Arkansas 
justice of the peace. A trial was in progress at the 
moment of my entry. I found that all of our company 
had been summoned and had arrived before me. On a 
divan at the side of the room sat Capt. T., the General, and 
Mr. C, while a little farther down was Scander, with a 
pipe in his mouth, apparently half asleep. It appeared 
that that worthy, who in our contract had undertaken to 
furnish horses and provisions for our journey to Damas- 
cus, had got into some sort of a dispute with the Arab 
who owned the horses. That personage, in short, had 
that very morning made a new demand for an additional 



240 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



sum of money beyond that agreed upon, and refused to 
start upon the journey unless it was paid or secured to 
him. The dispute had arisen within the last half hour. 
But with true Oriental promptness in legal matters, 
Seander had that very instant seized upon his adversary 
and brought him hither to have the matter judicially 
determined. 

By the time this had been explained to me the trial 
that was going on when we entered was brought to a 
close, and the case of Seander vs. Abdallah called. At 
first we were of the notion that we had been summoned 
as witnesses, or at least to assist in some manner at the 
trial. But in this we were mistaken. We were merely 
produced in court by Seander with the view of giving 
dignity to his case. The whole trial was carried on by 
the parties in person, without the aid of either witnesses 
or attorneys. At the intimation of his highness that he 
was ready, Seander laid aside his pipe and rushed for- 
ward toward the judge's divan. In an instant he was 
talking at the top of his voice in Arabic, and gesticula- 
ting furiously. This was the filing of the complaint. 
But Abdallah rose from the opposite side of the room 
with his demurrer almost as soon as Seander, and the 
two, both talking at once, loud enough to awake the 
seven sleepers, continued the argument. In the mean 
time, first one bashi-bazouk and then another, came for- 
ward from their posts near the door or outside the hall, 
and took part in arguing the demurrer — all joining at 
once, each one striving to talk a little louder than the 
other, till six or seven persons were declaiming and ges- 
ticulating before the sleepy cadi. While this was going 
on, Seander slipped out at the door, leaving his adver- 
sary and the bashi-bazouks proceeding all at once with 
the argument, they being now so numerous that the 
plaintiff was not missed from the court. But he was 
back in a moment, driving an Arab before trim laden with 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 241 



a coffee-pot and tray full of cups. Scander, feeling his 
case a little shaky, had fortified his bill, not with affida- 
vits, but by treating the court. Not a bad move for a 
layman, though it is, I believe, with members of the legal 
fraternity in California, considered the better practice to 
do both. Silence was at once restored and the coffee 
poured out for all, commencing with his honor on the 
divan, and not forgetting the Frankish spectators. The 
cups were small, and business was soon resumed. Now . 
came the answer and cross bill (of course all oral), with 
motions to strike out, and demurrers, each accompanied 
with coffee and pipes from one side or the other, and so 
on through an hour of replications, rejoinders, and surre- 
joinders, rebutters and surrebutters, in the argument of 
which every soul in and about the court-room speaking the 
Arabic language, from the cadi down to the ragged boy 
who swept out the place, took part, and all at the same 
time. It was only while drinking the coffee that this 
Babel of tongues was not in full operation, and if the cadi 
ever took the trouble to deliberate at all it must have 
been while partaking of this beverage. Of course we 
could form no idea of how the thing was going, nor in 
fact what they were all talking about, so we sat still and 
sipped the coffee as fast as it came in. I am quite cer- 
tain, however, that no testimony was taken in the course 
of the queer trial, except the statement of the parties 
themselves. And as near as I could find out, the case 
was finally decided against Scander, and in favor of the 
Arab horse-dealer, by one of the bashi-bazouks, who occu- 
pied in the court a position analogous to that of constable 
in the American judicial system, showing that in legal 
matters these heathens are not so much, behind us as we 
are apt to imagine, with this difference in favor of the 
practice of our American small courts, that there it is the 
plaintiff who wins, while here it is the defendant. But a 
judgment against Scander was substantially a judgment 
11 



242 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



to take money from the only parties, direct or indirect, to 
the suit, who were understood to have it to pay — that is, 
the Frankish travelers — which may throw some light 
upon the termination of the controversy. At the close, 
more coffee and pipes were brought in, of which all par- 
took. Then the cadi rose from his seat on the divan, 
while all others did the same, out of respect, and his 
honor passed out into his apartments fronting the sacred, 
precincts of the Mosque of Omar. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

THE JEWS IX JEWRY. 

There are certain plants in the vegetable kingdom 
which, when removed from the land where nature has 
first placed them, appear to thrive as exotics even better 
than in their native soil. The Bible authority for Judea 
being the natural and God-ordained abiding-place of the 
"chosen people," appears to be beyond question. Yet 
the Jews of every country upon the globe into which, 
by the tyranny of their fellow-men, they have been driven, 
are wiser, better, more civilized, healthier, and happier 
than are the same people left in Jerusalem, the central 
city and capital. To say that the Jews of the United 
States, for thrift and material prosperity, are equal if not 
superior to any class of the community, would be to 
make a statement in accordance with the opinion of all 
who have any knowledge of the facts. And this is the 
rale throughout the world, save in one place only, and 
that, strangely enough, is at the great fountain and res- 
ervoir of Jewish nationality, Jerusalem itself. There are 
six thousand Jews in Jerusalem, being a little less than 
half the entire population ; the balance of its thirteen 
thousand inhabitants consisting of four thousand Mos- 
lems, fifteen hundred Greeks, twelve hundred Catholics ; 
also, a few hundreds of Armenians, Syrians, Copts, and 
Abyssinians. 

But what is stranger, beyond all the strange things 
with respect to the Jews of Jerusalem, is the fact that 



244 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



they are all foreigners to that city, the birthplace of then- 
people. Not a Jew in the holy city speaks as his own 
the language of the country, past or present. Spanish is 
the vernacular tongue of a large portion, while others 
speak German, Russian, and Polish. This apparent 
anomaly suggests the question : Is there a country where 
they are not foreign ? Native Jews in America are al- 
most as rare as paupers of that religion. But we have 
English Jews, while England is more frequented with 
those of Germany, and this latter country again is over- 
run with Jews from Poland. They also here reverse all 
known rules of Jewish conduct with respect to occupa- 
tion. No Jew in America ever thinks of adopting a 
calling requiring him to labor with his hands. His con- 
fidence in the capacity of his brain for supplying all his 
wants is fortified by the traditional success of his whole 
people. But in Jerusalem all of the Jews, I believe 
without exception, who support themselves at all, do so 
by manual labor, skilled or unskilled. I bought my tin 
cans for conveying Jordan water of an aged Israelite 
with venerable beard and unshaven head, who sat cross- 
legged in the street of David near to the Pool of J ere- 
miah, making and selling them to the public who passed 
out by the Bethlehem gate. And I found that the Span- 
ish which I had picked up in the early days of the settle- 
ment of California was all the language necessary for 
carrying on the little negotiation. 

But strange and un-Jew-like as this employment may 
seem to be, the means by which the bulk of the Jewish 
population of their own city obtain the means of living 
are even more opposed to our received notions upon this 
subject, than the making of tin cups and cans. They 
are mostly paupers, and supported by charity. Who 
ever heard of a Jew beggar, or even a Jew in distress or 
want ? American beggars are often met with, though I 
have heard persons assert the contrary. True, they gen- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 245 



erally disguise the application under the cloak of a tem- 
porary loan for a few days ; but a little reflection upon the 
number of " fives " and " tens " with which I have parted 
company, especially just before an election, convinces me 
that mendicancy is not unknown with us, but simply 
adopts another name. But none of this to Jews. When 
they borrow they pay. When they beg, if beg they do, 
it must be of Jews, and never of Christians. But the 
pauper Jews in the holy city do not throw aside all the 
rules of their race. If they live upon charity, it is not 
Christian or Mohammedan charity, nor do they beg of 
Armenians, Copts, or Abyssinians. The charity which 
supports them is the charity of their own people. Of 
the hundreds who stopped me in the streets of Jerusalem 
with petitions for backshish, not one was of the Israelit- 
ish race. Yet they are the poorest and most miserable, as 
a class, of all the inhabitants of the holy city. 

The Jews of Jerusalem are divided into two sects — 
the Sephardim and the Askenazem. The former are 
composed of the descendants of the Jews of Spain who 
were expelled from that country by Ferdinand and Isa- 
bella about the time, or soon after, they had so triumph- 
antly driven forth the Moors. It appears that having 
got rid of that industrious and useful population, these 
wise monarchs could not tolerate the idea of any intelli- 
gence or thrift being left in the country. These still 
speak the Spanish language as when they left Spain three 
centuries and a half ago. It is said that the fewest 
number of them know any thing of Arabic, yet they are 
subjects of the Sultan which the other sect is not. They 
have their own rabbinical laws, and their chief ruler, 
elected from their own society, called the "Head of 
Zion," is a person of some distinction, and his principal 
dragoman has a seat in the Council Board of the city. 
The society is organized on some sort of a joint or mutual 
plan for the benefit and protection of all, but is said to 



246 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

be at this time in a sad state of financial difficulty. The 
principal source of revenue for this as well as the other 
is from contributions by the benevolent Jews abroad, 
who give freely for the poor of Jerusalem. But the 
Sephardim is deeply in debt, and the whole of the funds 
thus collected go in payment of the interest. There is 
consequently no provision made for the poor. The ser- 
vants of the synagogues go each Friday to the houses of 
the wealthier Jews with baskets, begging bread for the 
needy. 

The Askenazem are of a nationality quite remote, and 
speak a language altogether different from that of the 
other sect. These are composed entirely of Jews from 
Germany and Poland. Some, of course, are born in the 
country of Polish or German parents ; but the society is 
kept up to its numbers or receives its increase by con- 
stant accessions from those countries. Being foreigners 
they are not subject to the ordinary authority of the 
Turkish officials, but share the advantage of the treaties 
had between the various Western Powers and the Porte, 
in being able to carry their grievances before the con- 
sular agents of their own countries of Germany or 
Russia. The members of the Askenazem are much 
below the other sect in point of industry and general 
capacity for supporting themselves. 

A colony planted three centuries in any land will, if 
let alone, produce some worthy members. And such is 
the case with the Spanish Jews in Jerusalem. Though pro- 
foundly ignorant — for how could they be otherwise when 
there are no schools in which to teach them ? — they still 
show some of the original leaven of Jewish thrift and 
industry so noticeable elsewhere. They have mechanics 
and small traders among their numbers, and I believe 
even a few of comparative wealth. But the Askenazem 
are recruited almost invariably from the pauper Jews of 
Germany and Poland. When a Jew is good for nothing 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 217 



else he is good to send to Jerusalem. The donations of 
the wealthy Israelites and Jewish societies in Europe, and 
possibly America, are transmitted regularly hither and 
doled out to these poor people for their support. In fact 
a regular pension, amounting to the apparently insignifi- 
cant sum of seven dollars and a half a year is thus 
secured to each one of the Jews of this society, young 
and old. These contributions from Europe are the sole 
support of a very considerable portion of them. And 
this they soon learn to look upon as their right and not 
as a matter of charity. Each one of them understands 
himself to be a sort of employee of the rest of the Jewish 
brotherhood throughout the world, his duty being that 
of remaining at Jerusalem to hold possession of it, or 
perhaps to regenerate it in the Hebrew interest. They 
therefore consider themselves in the light of paid mis- 
sionaries, and complain often of the inadequacy of their 
compensation, as well as at any delay in its transmission. 
They spend their time in perfect idleness, depending 
upon this stipend or other charities for a support. A 
few study the Talmud. The Askenazem are more 
geuerally men of some learning than members of the 
other sect, being familiar with the Hebrew tongue. They 
number two thousand, while the Spanish Jews are four 
thousand. 

Outside the west wall of the Haram is a long, open 
court, having the high wall of the Temple for its eastern 
side, and the surrounding houses of the quarter inclosing 
the others. Just at this place the immense beveled stones 
on the walls show that this part has withstood the ringer 
of time, and that here remains a part of the original ma- 
sonry of Solomon's Temple. To this place the Jews have 
* for untold ages been in the habit of coming, one day at 
least in the week, and making their lamentation over the 
downfall of their people. Five courses of beveled stones, 
each weighing more tons than I dare to write down with- 



248 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



out having first weighed them, rest one upon another. 
The joints in the lower courses are much worn by the 
kisses of a nation deposited upon them during centuries of 
time. More or less of them come here every day in the 
week, but on Friday the court is thronged by Jews of 
both sexes and all ages, who unite in a cry of anguish and 
lamentation over a desolated and dishonored sanctuary. 
The way to the wailing-place is through a series of wind- 
ing, dark, and narrow lanes or alleys, half of the distance 
being under the arched vaults of the Jerusalem houses. 
It is crooked because it is necessary to get quite in the 
rear of the Harani, for in such a spot, and that only as 
a great favor, are the Jews permitted to approach the 
walls which once inclosed their Temple. We could not, 
I am sure, have found our way to it alone, nor, having 
arrived there, could we have successfully returned to our 
hotel without a guide. But this we had in the person 
of Ibrahim, the same dragoman who had accompanied 
us in all our travels about the holy city. 

We were made aware of our approach to the place 
some moments before reaching it, not only by the crowds 
of Jews pouring in and out of the dark by-ways, but by 
the sound of the wailers in the court-yard as we drew 
near. It was a most strange and indescribable sight 
that burst upon us as we entered the wailing-place. More 
than a hundred men, women, and children sat or stood 
about upon the stone pavement, or leaned against the 
wall of the Temple. The old men generally sat down on 
the pavement with their backs to the wall, and leaned 
forward, rocking themselves back and forth, reading from 
a Hebrew book, which they held upon their knees. They 
shed no tears, nor did they make loud outcries, but read 
from the book in a monotonous sad toue of voice. The " 
Lamentations of Jeremiah is the favorite book to be read 
upon the wailing-day, and also selections from the Psalms, 
especially Psalm Ixxix. 1, 4, 5 : u God, the heathen are 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 249 



come into thine inheritance. Thy holy temples have they 
denied. They have laid Jerusalem in heaps. We are be- 
come a reproach to our neighbors ; a scorn and derision 
to them that are round about us. How long, Lord ? 
Wilt thou be angry forever?" The women and children 
make up for what the old men lack in clamor and bois- 
terous lamentation, for these throw themselves upon the 
pavement in paroxysms, or embrace and kiss the great 
beveled stones of the walls, burying their faces in the 
joints and cavities, while real tears stream down their 
cheeks. It is the most touching ceremony to be met 
with in all the strange and melancholy things to be seen 
in or about Jerusalem. 

Aside from a question of faith in some immediate resto- 
ration of the Jews to their former land, this wholesale 
system of pensioning paupers upon the country to hold a 
footing in it, is of most doubtful propriety. Nor is it 
even true charity. For the knowledge of the, in the ag- 
gregate, considerable sums of money that are each year 
forwarded to Jerusalem by benevolent Jews in Europe, 
leads the idle, the improvident, and perhaps the dishonest, 
to rush to the Holy Land, with the view of leading there 
an easy life at the expense of others. The poor popula- 
tion remain in excess of the funds for their support, and 
much hardship and misery are the natural results. It is 
quite certain that the Jews of Jerusalem, as a class, are 
much the most wretched of any there. 

In striking contrast with this mistaken charity of the 
great body of European Israelites, is that of Sir Moses 
Monteliore, the well-known Englishman of that faith. 
This gentleman has given large sums for the regeneration 
of the Jews in Jerusalem, but he does not spend it in 
supporting in idleness whole societies of lazy adult Tal- 
mud readers, but in the erection and endowment of schools 
for the education of the Jewish youth. Just across the 
Valley of'Hinnom, and opposite the Tower of David, stands 
11* 



250 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



a long row of plain, neat, stone buildings, two stories 
high, and surrounded by a solid wall. When we came in 
from Bethlehem we passed by its door, and saw two or 
three hundred clean, well-dressed, bright-eyed boys, be- 
tween eleven and fifteen years, playing around the outer 
walls of Mount Zion, or marching back and forth between 
the house I have described and the moat without David's 
Tower. The house was the school founded by Sir Moses 
Montefiore, and the boys were the pupils being educated 
therein according to Western notions of education. I 
stopped several of the little fellows and talked with 
them. I found that many of them spoke English, and 
all were as bright, intelligent, and well-behaved as the 
best of youths of the same age in American schools. This 
school is the only green and blooming twig that I have 
beheld upon the dead and almost decayed trunk of Jeru- 
salem. Sir Moses Montefiore takes a great interest in 
this school, and was expected to arrive any day, while 
we were there, upon a tour of examination of his good 
work. Well may he be proud of it ; for nothing like it 
has adorned the desolate hills of Palestine for many a 
century. The school is just without the Jaffa gate, and 
through this we came in on our return to the city. 

As we entered, we saw on either side of the road, quite 
up to the gate, sitting under the shadow of the wall, or 
across the way in the sun, forty or fifty victims of the 
curse upon former generations of Syrian unclcanliness — 
leprous men and women. What a change to find, within 
five minutes after beholding the youthful, joyous, and 
happy recipients of the good Englishman's bounty ! On 
one side of the Valley of Hinnom, three hundred cleanly, 
handsome, bright-eyed boys, with books in hand, prepar- 
ing for a life of usefulness — in the past, nothing to regret ; 
in the future, nothing to dread — and on the other side, 
fifty gibbering lepers, fingerless and toeless, tongueless 
and eyeless, without voice, without lips, without teeth, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 25 i 



and without hair — living corpses, fetid from the tomb, 
and wrapped in worse than grave-clothes. As if death 
had fled from them in horror or disgust, the poor wretches, 
whose misery no pen can describe, whose repulsiveness 
no tongue can tell, sit from morning till night at the city 
gate, reeking in human rottenness, weltering in bodily 
decay. Oh ! sharers in the blessings of the Christian civil- 
ization of the West, fail not to thank God, morning, noon, 
and night, that he has vouchsafed to you his messenger 
Death to bear away your souls when the body ceases to 
be fit for its habitation ! 

The reflection that leprosy is a disease capable of being 
eradicated, adds to the disgust, and almost withdraws 
sympathy from its victims. It is not contagious, nor can 
it be communicated from one to another. The lepers of 
the East are a separate nation to themselves. An active 
and philanthropic government would drive it from the 
earth in the course of a single generation. All that is 
necessary is to prevent intermarriage between them. To 
the age of fifteen or twenty or twenty-five years, varying 
in different families, not the slightest indication of the 
disease shows itself. Yet each young leper knows that he 
bears in him the seeds of worse than death, and that at 
the appointed time it will surely appear, and that he, too, 
will sit at the city gate, whispering to the benevolent for 
alms to hold his disgusting life within his horrible body. 
It is the fault of the government that this is not all im- 
mediately arrested, and that twenty years does not see 
the last leper on earth. In this matter again, however, 
it is said that the genuine benevolence of Sir Moses Mon- 
tefiore is about to show itself. He designs, at an early 
day, to establish a hospital, in which all will be gathered, 
and there maintained under such a state of surveillance 
as will prevent the perpetuation of the frightful and in- 
human evil. This is the more creditable to him, from the 
fact that his charity is not of a sectional character; for the 



252 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



lepers of Syria are of no particular religion. May he be 
as successful in this as he evidently is in his educational 
plans ; but, were ever so little success to crown his efforts, 
he deserves for his benevolent designs a place among 
the greatest philanthropists of any age. 

Overhanging the Jaffa gate stands the citadel and 
strongest fortress of the holy city. It is called by some 
the Tower of Hippicus, but by the people of Jerusalem it 
bears the name of the Tower of David ; for here, accord- 
ing to popular belief, King David dwelt in the days of 
Israel's greatness. It is the most commanding in height 
of all the buildings within the city, and the only fortress 
that appears to have any real strength. An admission fee 
of ten piasters is demanded by the bashi-bazouks in charge 
of the place; and the form of application to and permis- 
sion by the officer in command must be gone through 
with before being allowed to enter. This our party did, 
and soon obtained a paper in Arabic or Turkish charac- 
ters, which cost us quite a little sum of money, but which 
let us past the sentinel at the gate. It is l<>fty, and pecu- 
liarly quaint and antique in appearance. The ancient bev- 
eled stones, from nine to thirteen feet in length, indicative 
of Hebrew origin, go to establish the truth ot the tradition 
that this was the stronghold of David. Two antiquated can- 
non, of the capacity known as nine-pounders, are mounted 
upon rotten wooden trucks at the top, and look to be more 
dangerous to the soldiers in the rear than to an enemy in 
front. They are only used in firing salutes, we are told, 
and then often burn those in charge with the flame issuing 
from vent-hole in the breach. David's Tower being in 
the west and on one side of Mount Zion, it follows that 
the bulk of the city lies between it and Mount Olivet. 
A fine view of the tops of all the houses in ihe city, the 
Haram, and the walls, is obtained from the tower. 
Almost beneath the north wall, but across the street of 
David, as the way through the Jaffa, gate is called, is 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 253 



shown the house of Uriah, upon the top of which Bath- 
sheba was engaged in bathing when she attracted the at- 
tention of the amorous king, he being, as the tradition 
relates, walking upon the top of this very tower. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



THE MOUNT OF OLIVES. 



Beyond the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and rising up as one 
of its mountain sides to a point two hundred feet higher 
than any part of Jerusalem, is the Mount of Olives. It is 
before one's eyes from every point of the city and for miles 
around it. Covered with growing grain and dotted with 
olive-trees quite to its top, it stands over Jerusalem a 
sort of sentinel or perpetual guard. From its summit 
every point in the city, in the streets and alleys, and on 
the house-tops, can be seen as plainly as one can overlook 
a chess-board while at play. In the center is a rounded top 
crowned by a small village, while the very apex is occu- 
pied by a stone chapel with one small but graceful mina- 
ret, perhaps the relic of a mosque of former and more in- 
tolerant times. There is no spot about Jerusalem so 
universally visited by all travelers, and none which has 
gathered about it more hallowed memories or sacred asso- 
ciations. Here the Saviour often sat with his disciples, 
telling them of wondrous events yet to come ; of the de- 
struction of the holy city, of the sufferings, the persecu- 
tions, and the final triumph of his followers. Here he 
gave them the parable of the ten virgins and the five tal- 
ents. Here he was wont to retire on each evening, for 
meditation and prayer and rest of body, when weary 
and harassed by the labors and trials of the day. And 
here he came on the night of his betrayal to utter that 
wonderful prayer, "O, my Father, if it be possible, let 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



255 



that cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as 
thou wilt." And when the cup of God's wrath had been 
drunk, and death and the grave conquered, he led his dis- 
ciples out again over Olivet as far as Bethany, and, after 
a parting blessing, ascended to heaven. 

It was, I believe, the second day after our arrival, that 
our party, well mounted upon Syrian horses or ambling 
donkeys, left the stone vaults of our hotel for a visit to 
Olivet. The road plunges down the hill toward Mount 
Morinh and the Mosque of Omar for a hundred yards, till 
it is intersected and crossed by a narrow lane walled and 
paved with stone as rugged as its own history. It is the 
Via Doloroso, along which Christ was led or driven, bear- 
ing his cross, from the house of Pilate to Calvary. 

The various stations, as they are called in the Catholic 
church, each memorable for some event in the sorrowful 
journey, are marked out, and their recollection carefully 
preserved. Just at the crossing, on the right, is an in- 
dentation in the stone wall, four feet from the ground, 
where, it is said, the Saviour rested his shoulder when he 
fell the third time. Most Eastern Christians, without re- 
spect to sect, make a point of reverently kissing this spot 
as often as they pass. A stout Russian pilgrim, with his 
thick boots and furred coat, was paying this token of re- 
spect to the station as we rode along. The Turks and all 
other Mussulmans follow one equally invariable rule of 
expressing their hatred of unbelievers by spitting upon 
this stone every time they go within reach of it. The con- 
sequence is, that to do it Christian reverence requires not 
only great devotion of spirit but no inconsiderable amount 
of strength of stomach as well. Directly after the Rus- 
sian left, a lubberly, green-turbaned Syrian s.iuntered along 
down the hill and passed close to the side next to the sta- 
tion, evidently with the intention of giving it the usual 
Moslem compliment. I held a stout olive-wood cane in 
my hand. This I grasped firmly, and prepared to " lift him 



256 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



gently" with the butt of it, when he had completed the 
act of indecent intolerance. But he suspected my char- 
itable purpose^ and refrained, for the time, in defiling the 
Christian shrine. But so debased is the whole population 
that I probably could have pummeled and pounded the 
fellow the whole length of the Via Doloroso without the 
least danger of resistance on his part. 

Of this I had a queer illustration on re-entering Jerusa- 
lem. My wife was mounted upon a very lazy and obsti- 
nate donkey, that required constant beating to keep him 
in the road as well as to make him go forward. In pass- 
ing down Christian Street, as the way is called, the pas- 
sage being very narrow, I found it almost stopped up by 
two men in earnest conversation. The donkey, taking 
advantage of this temporary obstacle, turned aside and 
plunged into a little bead shop fronting upon the passage. 
I quite lost my temper at this, and, without a moment's 
hesitation or reflection, I raised up in my stirrups and 
dealt the nearest of the two men a blow over the shoul- 
ders with all the power I could muster, at the same time 
roaring at him in English, "Get out of the way, you 
scoundrel !" He was a lusty fellow, not less than six feet 
high, and capable of lifting me from my horse and taking 
such immediate satisfaction as he chose. But, to my sur- 
prise, instead of coming at me for instant war, he turned, 
with a laugh, as if I had conferred an honor upon him. 
Entering the shop, which was his own, he led out the 
donkey, and calling his son, a little fellow of ten years, 
caused him to lead the obstinate brute all the way to the 
hotel. 

But to return to our visit to Mount Olivet. Our route 
turned to the left, passing the several stations where 
Christ had fallen, where he had sat down, where the 
handkerchief of Veronica had been presented to him, 
where he had addressed the weeping daughters of Jeru- 
salem, and finally the starting-point of Pilate's house, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 257 



which fronts the same street. The door or great entrance 
gate alone is left. I see no reason to doubt its authen- 
ticity. Nearly opposite is the Latin Convent of the 
Flagellation, where Christ was bound and scourged. We 
stopped at none of them, but followed on down toward 
St. Stephen's gate, which leads out of the city and down 
into the Valley of Jehoshaphat. Looking out of this, the 
whole scene of the last night of the sufferings and agony 
upon earth of the Saviour are spread out at our feet. At 
the bottom of the valley, which runs parallel with the 
wall and within a stone's throw of the gate, is the Garden 
of Gethsemane, while beyond is the Mount of Olives, 
rising above it. We had taken horses, but it must not 
be understood that the distance is great. Ten minutes' 
walk — perhaps less — brought us from Calvary through 
the gate and down the hill to the garden. This gate gets 
its name from the stoning of St. Stephen having taken 
place just without it. The place is pointed out half-way 
down the hill, and if the site was selected because of con- 
venience to this class of projectiles it was well chosen, for 
there are still plenty of stones lying conveniently near. 
A zig-zag path descends the steep hill that falls away from 
St. Stephen's gate, and at the bottom crosses the bed of 
the valley or brook Kidron, between the Garden of Geth- 
semane and the tomb of the Virgin Mary. The road 
branches at the garden, the left hand going up the Mount 
of Olives to the top, and the right passing along its wall 
and then crossing the southern spur of the hill to Bethany. 
The one to the left is the " way of the wilderness," by which 
David fled from Absalom. " And David went up by the 
ascent of Mount Olivet, and wept as he went up, and had 
his head covered, and he went barefoot; and all the peo- 
ple that were with him covered every man his head, and 
they went up, weeping as they went up." The road to 
the right is even a more memorable way than the first, for 
here Christ entered Jerusalem in triumph, and hard by 



258 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



was found the ass's colt upon which he rode. And along 
the stony path, morning and night, he went in and out of 
Jerusalem, passing to and from the house of Mary and 
Martha, at Bethany, over the hill. 

From the wall of the Garden of Gethsemane south for 
more than a mile the bottom and both sides of the Valley 
of Jehoshaphat, even up to Olivet on one side and to the 
walls of Jerusalem on the other, the ground is literally 
hidden by the flat stone tombs of countless descendants 
of Abraham, who have journeyed from the ends of the 
earth to be buried in this favored spot. The Jews con- 
sider it a great privilege to be buried in this ground. 
Here they believe the Messiah will stand at the resurrec- 
tion, and summon from the dust all flesh. Those buried 
in the valley will rise at once from their tombs ; while 
those who have been entombed in other lands will have 
to make a toilsome and agonizing journey under ground 
to the spot. The Moslems also believe the tradition, and 
show a point on the eastern wall where Mohammed will 
sit on the last great day and summon the elect to their 
appropriate place in Paradise. At the foot of the Olivet 
side of the valley stands a tomb of considerable size and 
of indifferent architecture, said to be that of Absalom, 
who drove his father across the brook and was afterward 
slain by Joab. The identity of the tomb is disputed. 
But that has not prevented the Jews from showing their 
horror at the unnatural conduct of an unworthy son, any 
time this thousand years or more, by pitching a loose 
stone into or upon it when passing. Though of very 
considerable size, the tomb is quite full of these stones to 
the amount of many hundred tons weight. 

Half way up the hill we stop for a few minutes, and, 
with lighted torches provided in advance, grope our way 
through the series of caves in the hillside known as the 
tombs of the prophets. Why they are so called I could 
not learn — not even from Ibrahim, our guide, except in a 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



259 



general way, that prophets had been buried there ; a very 
vague sort of knowledge, especially as the term prophet 
has so general an application in Palestine to persons of 
very diverse character. I feel quite confident, whatever 
may have been the fact in former times, that certainly no 
prophets, true or false, repose in these caves at present, 
except it be in impalpable dust, for the floors, sides, and 
roof were all of clean, smooth, and solid stone, and we 
saw nothing that looked either like the remains of a 
prophet or the son of a prophet. 

Remounting, in five minutes we were riding through 
the gate into the inclosure of the chapel that crowns 
Olivet. Twenty or more ragged boys, with bag-trousers 
and turbans, but shoeless and shirtless, were playing with 
a pet lamb around the door. This they stopped on our 
appearance, and rushed at us with loud shouts of backshish, 
offering to hold our horses. There were enough of the 
little rascals to give three to each animal. Great pulling 
and hauling ensued, and several bloody noses showed 
themselves before the right of possession was settled 
among them, for boys will be boys. An old Syrian in 
wide trousers took possession of the party, and led us at 
once to the great lion of the place. It was the mark of 
a footprint in the stone. The resemblance was good, 
the toes and ball of the foot being impressed very dis- 
tinctly in the solid rock. It was the place of the ascension 
of our Lord. Here his foot rested for the last time on 
earth. The Church of the Ascension, as the chapel is 
called, is erected directly over this footprint, which, if not 
the actual indentation of the Saviour's foot, has undoubt- 
edly passed for such with many of his followers for cen- 
turies, the number of whom is not much less than that 
which designates the passing age. 

There is a minaret beside the chapel, and to the top of 
this we speedily mounted. It affords the finest view about 
Jerusalem. On the east is seen the whole course of the 



280 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



Jordan, marked by its line of dark green, winding like a 
serpent down the center of the deep valley gorge, between 
the distant mountains of Moab and Judea, until it empties 
into the Dead Sea, the waters of which twinkle and gleam 
at the bottom of the chasm to the right. 

Bat it is to the west that the eye turns almost instinct- 
ively, and rests with the greater satisfaction. At our feet, 
passing from the right to the left, is the Brook Kidron 
and the Valley of Jehoshaphat, while on the brow of the 
opposite hill, and following its front line, extending for 
more than a half-mile, are the solid walls of Jerusalem. 
In the foreground, beyond the ravine, is the inclosure of 
the Haram, the octagonal Mosque of Omar, with its noble 
dome in the center, occupying the site of Oman's thrash- 
ing-floor and Solomon's Temple. This is Mount Moriah. 
The outer wall of the Temple was also the wall of the 
city. The platform, and a few huge beveled stones in this 
wall, is all that is left of the famous structure. But the 
platform is supported from vaulted arches, and hours may 
be spent in wandering about among the masonry, laid 
beneath the very eyes of the wisest of kings and of men. 

While we stood gazing down upon Jerusalem, the 
sound of music came floating around from behind the 
northeastern angle of the wall ; and directly the head of a 
column of soldiers swung around the corner, keeping time 
to the music of a brass band playing in good style a 
quickstep from// Trovatore. They marched close up to the 
wall, but we were so completely over their heads that we 
could see all that was going on both within and without 
the city. The little regiment had come out at the Da- 
mascus gate, and were marching around outside to enter 
again at the gate of St. Stephen, just within which is the 
pasha's house, and all the offices of those in authority. 
Dressed in the uniform of French Guards, and carrying 
muskets with percussion locks and saber bayonets, they 
might have figured creditably in the Champs-Elysees, or 



SKETCHES OF TEA V EL. 



261 



before the White House. The ground they marched over 
had been traversed by the slingers of David and the archers 
of Nebuchadnezzar ; had been passed by the stern warriors 
of Alexander and Titns, as well as by the mailed bat- 
talions of Godfrey and Richard of the lion heart. And 
irom this same Olivet, where we stood, Christ had looked 
down upon an older Jerusalem and predicted its destruc- 
tion and the breaking up and scattering to the ends of 
the earth of its stiff-necked people. The soldiers entered 
the gate. We could hear the faint notes of Verdi's music 
struggling up from the low stone hovels that surround 
the pool of Bethesda ; we could see the glimmer of the 
bayonets, as they turned the angle of the Port of Justice 
of Pilate's house, and then they were lost in the barracks 
that flank the walls of Mount Moriah. We descended, 
paid backshish to the custodian, and bent our way silently 
down the valley toward Siloam. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 



GOING TO JERICHO. 

We had been several days in Jerusalem before we 
could summon courage enough to encounter the dangers, 
real or imaginary, of a trip to the Dead Sea and the Jor- 
dan. But to come to the Holy Land with out seeing the 
Dead Sea, would be like going to Boston without seeing 
the organ or the Common ; to Paris, avoiding the Ex- 
position; or to ISTew York, without driving in Central 
Park. We therefore got off for the Jordan at the 
very earliest moment possible. Our hour of departure 
had been fixed for eight o'clock ; but in February the 
days are short in Jerusalem as well as in other parts of 
the world. It was more than an hour after that time 
when our party wound through St. Stephen's gate, and 
passed down into the Valley of Jehoshaphat, on our jour- 
ne}^. The day was unusually fine. Our party consisted 
of seven persons and the necessary escort ; but all the 
strangers in Jerusalem had agreed upon the same day for 
visiting the Jordan, so that the road was likely to be 
well guarded. 

Of the escort there was, first, Scander, the dragoman, 
who acted as commander-in-chief of the cooks, Arabs, 
and dependents generally. His gang consisted of Abdal- 
lah, the cook, three mookerahs, a chief of horse, and two 
common servants. The escort consisted of the sheik of 
the country about the Dead Sea, with ten Bedouins of his 
tribe. The sheik alone of this party was mounted. The 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



263 



Arabs ran on foot, alongside, over the mountains, and by 
short cuts, so as to be generally ahead of the party. Not 
less than fifty animals either bore the party or the camp 
equipage, so that the narrow path through the mountains 
was filled up for a quarter of a mile. 

The road from Jerusalem passes directly across the 
Valley of Jehoshaphat, almost beneath the eastern wall of 
the city, and by the Garden of Gethsemane. From this 
the road ascended for some distance, crossing the south- 
ern spur of the Mount of Olives to Bethany, a ruined vil- 
lage, one and a half miles from Jerusalem. The path is 
filled with rolling stones, and is followed with difficulty 
by the sure-footed horses bred to the roads of Palestine. 
But bad as it is, it is without a doubt, the very way over 
which the Saviour of mankind plodded morning and 
night, as he came in and out of Jerusalem from the house 
of Mary and Martha, at Bethany. Fifty yards to the left 
of the road is all that is left of the village. The largest 
of the ruins is still pointed out as the house of the pious 
sisters with whom the Redeemer dwelt. And down the 
flinty desert path that stretches away in view for a mile 
to the east, they must have gazed in anxious expectancy, 
all the four days when their brother lay dead. It is not 
probable the most trifling change had been made in the 
flint-strewn path since the day Martha, leaving Mary sit- 
ting still in the house, went forth to meet the way- worn Son 
of Man, accosting him with the memorable words, " Lord, 
if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." The 
cave where Lazarus was buried is shown, and stopping, 
we entered it. It is descended by steps cut in the solid 
rock, and has two chambers. It is quite close to the vil- 
lage, and accords well with the description contained in 
the New Testament. 

In five minutes we were again on the road to Jericho, 
the Arab guards with their flint-lock guns, innocent, I 
suspect, of powder as well as ball, ran bare-legged along 



264 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the rocks on the hillside above and below the path, sing- 
ing the story of the houries of the Mussulman's paradise. 

It is eighteen miles or more from Bethany to Jericho, 
the road following for the most part the very tops of the 
lofty mountains of Judea. No houses are to be seen by 
the wayside, nor does the soil respond to the husband- 
man's toil. As far as the eye can reach stones have al- 
most undisputed possession of the surface of the land. At 
intervals of a mile or two an armed shepherd would be 
seen, watching his flock of a dozen or less of long-eared 
goats, mixed with an equal number of sheep. At what 
day of the world's history the peasants of Judea laid aside 
the bow and arrow for the modern fire-arm is doubtful. 
But it is certain that without armed defense the flock 
would soon melt away beneath the predatory habits of 
the Bedouins of the Jordan. At one o'clock we halted 
for luncheon. The place selected was at the summit of 
the mountain overlooking the Jordan, Dead Sea, and 
plains of Jericho. A bold rock shaded us from the sun's 
rays on one side of the way, while opposite was the wall 
and foundation of an ancient house. To our surprise we 
were informed by the guide that it was no other than the 
identical roadside inn at which the unfortunate wayfarer 
was left by the Good Samaritan. The poor fellow had 
come to grief at the hands of some roughs while coming 
up from Jericho. But I need not repeat the parable of 
the Good Samaritan to the pious reader ; it is enough to 
say that we found the hotel where he boarded, and that 
the establishment has long since ceased to furnish enter- 
tainment for man or beast. 

The Jordan flows southerly through the center of a 
valley about fifteen miles wide and inclosed by two 
ranges of abrupt and lofty mountains. It is thirteen 
hundred feet below the level of the sea and twice that 
much below that of the city of Jerusalem. And yet it is 
within fifteen miles, as the crow flies, from that city. The 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 265 



cod sequence is, that the valley may be seen from the 
city, stretching like a great yawning chasm quite across 
the face of the country to the east, appearing to be a s*ort 
of bottomless pit, or even as if the world were broken in 
half and divided by this black gap. And as we journey 
to the east from the high points of the road, we catch 
occasional glimpses of the gorge, as if looking down into 
a deep cavern in the earth's side, while the waves of the 
Dead Sea glisten and scintillate like water at the bottom 
of a well. 

The General, in his capacity of commander-in-chief of 
our party, claimed and exercised the privilege of deter- 
mining the location of the sacred places. This arrange- 
ment had generally proved most beneficial. For where 
there is so much doubt, it is always an advantage to have 
some one tribunal, if possible, without appeal, to put the 
matter at rest. By virtue of his office, and as a symbol of 
authority, the General was the custodian and expounder 
of John Murray's book, a work published in Albemarle 
Street, Loudon, and for authority with travelers, ap- 
proached only, and that in but a distant degree, by the 
sacred Scriptures. We were now in the valley, and not 
far, as the guide book assures us, from the site of Jericho. 
A search was accordingly commenced for the spot. We 
had come a great distance to see the place, and were 
anxious to be accurate as to the location. The drago- 
man and servants had gone on to the camping ground, 
which was understood to be the site of ancient Gilgal, 
eight miles farther on and nearer to the river. The 
party divided up and set to work. Our industry was 
soon rewarded by various discoveries of an interesting 
character. The General found the stones of an old wall, 
while I discovered some square, flat blocks of hewn 
rock, and Captain T. struck upon an ancient bath. 
Meantime, Mr. C. had ridden to the top of a hill or 
tumulus, which he assured us must have been the reser- 

12 



266 



GOIJSTG TO JERICHO; OB, 



voir, from which the city had in former times obtained 
its supply of water. 

For the benefit of those who have no Bible, I will 
briefly state that Jericho figures in sacred history as 
haviDg been attacked by the Children of Israel, under the 
command of Joshua, who, by the sole means of rams' 
horns and loud shouts, reduced the place in the unex- 
ampled short space of seven days. Subsequently, the 
Prophet Elisha operated in and about Jericho, and, 
among other things, miraculously healed the fountain of 
the city, changing its bitter waters so that they became 
pure and sweet. Here it was, also, that certain children, 
some thirty or forty in number, were eaten by bears, for 
having chaffed the prophet, by inviting him to " come 
out," at the same time applying to him the irreverent 
term, " Old Baldy," a sarcastic allusion to the circum- 
stance of his having lost his hair. It is not unlikely 
that the observation often made by one urchin to another, 
taking the form of an order to "go to Jericho," may have 
arisen from this circumstance, appearing, as it does, to 
indicate a knowledge in the infantile mind of that as the 
only place where a sufficient retributive justice would be 
likely to overtake the too sarcastic youth. We saw no 
bears at Jericho, nor, in fact, any sort of game, except 
fleas. This circumstance has led me to the notion that 
possibly a careful scrutiny of the original text of Holy 
Writ might lead to the discovery that the wise men of 
King James have been mistaken in their interpretation, 
and that the Divine vengeance upon the wicked urchins 
may have been accomplished through the instrumentality 
of this exceedingly active little insect, in place of the 
more ponderous and slow-moving bear. I do not say this 
to throw discredit upon the Scriptures, but merely in my 
capacity as a traveler in the Holy Land, each one of 
whom is entitled to make some discovery tending to 
throw light or darkness upon sacred subjects. To add 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 267 



to the probability of our having found the general vicinity 
at least of the site of Jericho, a considerable stream of 
pure and sweet water rose near the tumulus of Mr. C. 
and ran down along the plain toward the Jordan. Each 
of us, however, rather insisted upon the relics found by 
himself as indicating the precise spot where the city had 
stood. 

After a half hour spent in discussing the merits of the 
respective places, we were all overruled by the General, 
whose cause, it is but just to add, had been in the mean 
time materially strengthened by the discovery of a large 
ram's horn within his inclosure. We thereupon, without 
much reluctance, acquiesced in the dogma establishing 
the identity of the spot, and alighting from our animals, 
began to give ourselves to that natural train of devotional 
thought which springs up upon such occasions. The 
ladies seated themselves upon stones, drew their Bibles, 
and commencing with the first chapter of Genesis, began 
a thorough search of the Scriptures for the word Jericho. 
The General, having read to us in a commanding tone of 
voice, all that Mr. Murray had collated upon the subject, 
proposed the gathering of relics, such as pieces of stone, 
flowers, and the like. As for himself, he had secured the 
original ram's horn. This being done, the next thing 
without doubt would have been to take formal possession 
of the spot in the name of the United States of America, 
followed by reading an appropriate selection from the 
Bible, with singing and prayer, as a closing ceremony, 
when the dragoman, who had got out of patience waiting 
for us, dashed up on horseback, and called out to us that 
if we did not quit that old sheep-pen, and come on down 
to Jericho, we would get eaten up with fleas. It turned 
out that we had stopped at a " corral," at least three 
miles short of the place. Sadly, but with much accumu- 
lated wisdom, we remounted and rode on to the site of 
ancient Jericho. We found it at last, with its half-dozen 



268 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



ruined house-walls, and especially the fountain, miracu- 
lously healed, bursting out from beneath the hill, and 
with water enough to turn a mill. 

But no new enthusiasm could be got up. We all felt 
that religious contemplation had been exhausted at the 
"sheep-pen." Without so much as dismounting from our 
horses at Jericho, we turned down the stream that flows 
from Elisha's fountain, following it for two miles to the 
equally ancient and equally sacred site of Gilgal, where 
we found our tents pitched and dinner waiting upon the 
table. Gilgal is in the center of the valley, and within 
three miles of the Jordan. I made notes of all the famous 
things that the Bible shows to have occurred in and about 
Gilgal, searching Murray carefully for them, but have 
lost the paper, and am obliged to refer the reader to the 
sacred Scriptures. I do this, however, with the greater 
willingness in view of the wonderful success which has 
of late years crowned the efforts of the various evangelical 
societies, for the dissemination of Bible truths among the 
heathen. I think I may safely assume that the most of 
my readers will have occasional access to that book. 
There is a small modern village, called Riha, now occupy- 
ing the site of ancient Gilgal. But how the poor people 
keep body and soul together is a mystery. Upon our 
arrival two or three women left off their occupation of 
gathering pot-herbs from among the weeds about the 
camp, and came to stare at the strangers and to demand 
backshish. Like all the women of the East, these carefully 
concealed their faces. When we offered them money 
upon consideration of their removing their veils, they 
invariably refused the degrading proposition. 

The valley of the Jordau, in which these towns formerly 
stood, was in Bible days, and probably since that time, 
the richest and best cultivated of all the land of Canaan. 
It was once covered with forests of date-trees, as to-day 
is the valley of the Nile. Now there is not ten acres of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



269 



cultivation within sight of the mountain of Moab. The 
ruins of Jericho are overgrown with thorns, brambles, 
and Jordan wood, and the same gnarled growth extends 
for miles over the plain in every direction. The few 
Bedouins who hang about the valley live upon the milk 
of the goat, helped out by backshish extorted from the 
charity or fears of pilgrims and visitors. The chiefs of 
the tribe depend upon what I might term the "escort 
business" for a livelihood. The country is divided up 
into districts, over which these chiefs assume and exercise 
control of the most absolute character. No man can 
cross their domain without permission first obtained. For 
a long time they contented themselves with staying at 
their villages or tents about the Dead Sea, and levying 
tribute or robbing each adventurer who came their way. 
But at last this began to prove a bad business. The 
Imperial Government at Constantinople came to be so 
much dependent upon the Western powers, and in such 
danger from the encroachments of Russia, that Christian 
tolerance became necessary as a matter of state craft. 
From tolerance a greater protection soon sprang up under 
the imperative demands of England and France. Besides, 
the robbing of travelers produced but little gain. Chris- 
tians from the West have learned the art of carrying but 
little money with them on journeys. In fact, in going to 
the Jordan they carry next to none at all. Nothing was, 
therefore, to be gained by robbing them but their clothes, 
arms, and animals, all articles easy of identification. As 
for murder, the Arab never takes life when it can be 
avoided. This is because of his own laws upon the price 
of blood. Among the Arabs the public takes no concern 
of punishing crime. And, aside from murder, they know 
of no crime ; theft is honorable, and chicanery a thing to 
be proud of. But it is with them a religious duty, de- 
volving upon the next of kin of the man killed, to in time 
slay the slayer. And this rule follows, first upon one side 



270 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



and then upon the other till, as is often the case, both 
families are exterminated. They are thus taught to dread 
setting in motion this terrible feud of blood, and the 
taking of life among this strange people is but rarely 
resorted to except to perform this duty of vengeance, 
And when a Frankish traveler was stopped and robbed, 
as was the case in former times, he soon found his way to 
his consul and made his protest. The consul, of late 
years, has had great influence in Constantinople. He 
would threaten the pasha, and the pasha would start the 
bashi-bazouks, who would harry the tribes. A fine would 
be laid of so many horses or camels, not upon the wrong- 
doers, but upon the tribe. It would always be excessive, 
for it would be intended to enrich the pasha as well as 
recompense the sufferer. And while the bashi-bazouks 
would be collecting the sequestered camels from whoever 
had them, for they seized the first they found, they gen- 
erally contrived to carry off twice as much more on their 
own account. So that robbing a Frankish Christian of 
his old clothes and pistol was found to be a bad business. 

This led to the present escort system. A party wishes 
to make an excursion, and so informs the dragoman and 
consul. The sheik of the robber tribe, who now hangs 
about the khans of Jerusalem, waiting for business, is 
informed of the fact, and engages, for an agreed sum, to 
accompany the party with an escort in sufficient force to 
protect it. After this is agreed upon and the money paid 
there would be no real necessity, so far as the safety of 
the party is concerned, for him to go along at all. But 
there are reasons that operate to make him go. In the 
first place, he has nothing else to do, and his gang is in 
the same predicament. Then they get enough to eat 
from the cook of the party while on the expedition. And, 
besides, what is probably more important than all, by 
going along, with great show of armed force, they impress 
the strangers with a wonderful idea of the dangers of the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



271 



excursion, and thus prevent other parties from making the 
attempt without an escort. For, if such a thing should 
be attempted, the sheik would be obliged, in defense of 
his calling, to rob the party. It would never do to let 
the idea once get abroad that the road was safe, for there 
would be an end to the escort business. For this reason 
the escort is made as large as possible, the Arabs of the 
tribe gladly going for the chances of begging backshish 
from the company, a thing they commence directly they 
are on the road, and never cease till they are safely back 
to Jerusalem. At night, and after a good portion of the 
party had retired to bed, the whole tribe of escorts, not 
only of ours, which was called the " California Company," 
but of several other parties encamped in the vicinity, 
came into the ringr in front of the great tent and danced 
an Arab dance. It is no improvement- on the dance 
familiar to most Americans and known as the Indian war- 
dance, and is, therefore, not worth being described. But 
it produced considerable backshish to the dancers, who 
set off for the next camp, satisfied with the result. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 



JORDAN, AITD THE DEAD SEA. 



Gilgal is in the valley of the Jordan, and but little 
above the level of the Dead Sea, which lies six or eight 
miles to the south. The weather at Jerusalem was quite 
frosty when we left there in the morning. A room at the 
hotel without tire was exceedingly uncomfortable, and 
extra blankets at night were much in demand. Not so 
at Gilgal. Here we found the climate warm and pleas- 
ant, the air soft and balmy. The green grass Avas 
spangled with the flowers of spring, and all the night 
long the crickets chirped their most pleasant midsummer 
song. Tent doors were left open, while on the ground 
the wakeful Arab guards lay about in groups, smoking, 
listening to stories, and occasionally singing the rude 
chants of the desert. The air was clear, and the sky free 
from clouds or fogs. The mountain of Moab, beyond 
the Jordan, as well as the western range crowned by 
distant Jerusalem, seemed to draw near, and shut out 
many a bright star that would have otherwise twinkled 
in the firmament. We were in the midst of the Land of 
Promise — Pisgah, faithful sentinel, overlooking Canaan 
still as upon the day Israel's Deliverer surveyed from 
afar off the heritage he was forbidden to enter. The 
spot upon which we lay must have passed in review the 
leader's eye that day, as with human weakness he looked 
and longed, and longed and looked. Gilgal, in the very 
line of vision from Pisgah and Jericho, must have di- 
vided with it the scrutiny of Moses. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



273 



At daylight Captain T. had us all out of bed, as usual, 
by the playful information that breakfast was waiting, 
which, though not strictly true at the time, proved to be 
the fact before we were generally prepared to partake of 
it. From Gilgal to the ford of the Jordan the distance 
is six miles, over a valley as level as can be imagined. 
There was a general race, joined in by our party as well 
as by two other camps that turned up within a quarter 
of a mile of us. Those upon horseback scampered ahead 
for a mile or two, and then finding themselves alone, 
generally got frightened, and either turned back or waited 
for the others. The donkey-riders got on the best 
they could, imploring a friendly blow from all passing, 
besides forcing the Arab runners into the service of urging 
the stubborn brutes to the best possible rate of speed. 
The fear of Bedouin marauders kept the party within a 
space of half a mile, those behind being as anxious to 
hurry toward the front as the nimble horsemen were un- 
willing to actually keep up their best speed long enough 
to bring them to the Jordan. 

The banks of that stream seem to be more infested with 
robbers than any other part of the valley visited by trav- 
elers. This is understood to be from the fact, that just 
here the ford enables the Arab from the land of Moab to 
make flying incursions into the territory of the Sheik of 
the Dead Sea, to do a little business upon his own account 
and escape undiscovered. In such event the Sheik of the 
Dead Sea would be responsible, and upon his tribe the 
fine would be levied. For this reason parties are not 
permitted to encamp at the ford. We desired to do so, 
and could have reached the point easily from Jerusalem 
the first day ; but the sheik would not consent, saying 
that the place was dangerous, and that he would not be 
responsible for the consequences if we made the attempt. 

The soil of the Jordan valley is good, but contains many 
small stones, which would have to be removed before a 

12* 



274 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



high state of cultivation could be reached. The oleander 
is the chief undergrowth along the banks of the river. It 
is a shrub growing in bunches, each seven or eight feet 
high, and covering ten or twenty feet square of superfices. 
Through this the paths made by goat-herds and horses 
break up the country and render it easy of access. The 
valley continues with but one shelf quite up to the river, 
which is not over twenty feet below the plain. At the 
ford, the constant passing and repassing of forty centuries 
has broken down both banks, and the descent is made to 
the water without difficulty. 

The Jordan is about twenty-five yards in width. T did 
not attempt to cross it, but felt sure that I could have 
done so either on horseback or on foot, without swim- 
ming and without danger. The borders of the river 
below the banks are filled to the water's edge with a 
dense thicket of cane, mixed with oleanders and willows, 
so that at no place, except just here at the ford, can it be 
approached except by pushing through this almost impas- 
sable undergrowth. And here wild boars are said to 
abound in dangerous numbers. There had been recent 
rains, and the river was in a good stage of water. Stand- 
ing at the ford the flood of yellowish water appeared to 
start from the cane thicket fifty yards above, and break- 
ing into a sort of ripple at the crossing-place, again rolled 
away to the right and disappeared in another and similar 
jungle fifty yards below. This was all we saw of the 
Jordan. Elsewhere the line of the river is simply marked 
by the cane tassels that hem it in like a sort of yellow 
veil that conceals the modest stream from the gaze of the 
curious. 

Notwithstanding the race in which all had joined from 
Gilgal, the party pulled up at the top almost abreast. 
The fleetest barb in the cavalcade pranced down the 
declivity side by side with the same lazy donkey with 
which he had so scornfully parted in the morning. All 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 275 

the howadjis in or about Jerusalem met at the same time 
at the ford ; and in less than two minutes all were down 
at the water's edge. Some were in the river up to their 
knees, with their gloves on ; while others, more thought- 
ful, were squatted like turtles along the bank divesting 
their feet as rapidly as possible of their covering. Others 
again, more adventurous, even crossed to a little island in 
the middle of the stream, and were there drinking of or 
dabbling in the sacred waters. Black bottles in count- 
less numbers, generally labeled "Bass & Co.," suddenly 
produced from various secret hiding-places, were soon 
gurgling and bubbling beneath the surface of the stream, 
taking in cargoes with which they were destined to again 
make the tour half way round the world. The passion 
for carrying away Jordan water is one of the most unac- 
countable freaks of queer human nature. Although all 
of my children had been most happily baptized into the 
bosom of the church, yet I found myself encumbered with 
no less than four of "Bass & Co.'s" black bottles filled 
with the precious liquid — careful provision for the future, 
for which I take to myself some credit. 

At the moment I write I have before me neither the 
book of John Murray nor the Holy Bible. I am in con- 
sequence unable to specify with accuracy the various 
events that have given historical celebrity to the ford of 
the Jordan. But certain it is that more than once its 
waters have been miraculously divided in such manner as 
to permit the passage of the stream as upon dry laud. 
Once this was done to enable the armies of Israel under 
the command of Joshua to pass over and beleaguer the 
cities west of the Jordan, and the second was long after, 
and during the days of Elijah. In later times it was 
hereabouts that John the Baptist gathered his locusts and 
wild honey, and here came and was baptized our Lord. 
The tradition that it was at the ford appears to be in 
accord with the scriptural account. It is the ne arest point 



276 GOIJS r G TO JERICHO; OR, 



to Jerusalem, and probably the most accessible place. 
Besides, being on the great highway from Judea to the 
land east of the river, it seems reasonable that a reformer 
like John would have selected it for his work. 

At the end of two hours, the beer bottles having been 
filled with Jordan water, and the party fully supplied 
with pebbles from the river and pipe-stems from the cane 
thicket, we mounted, and set off in the same grand gallop 
for the Dead Sea. The road leads directly south and 
down the west bank of the river. The plain is flat all 
the way, neither rising nor falling from the ford to the 
river's mouth. But the stream seems at each step to cut 
deeper into the earth, so that for the last two miles the 
canes and willows that mark its course fall away far be- 
low the level of the valley along which we ride, and we 
look quite down upon them. But, look as sharp as we 
may, w r e can get no glimpse of the water. The jealous 
canes take care that our adieu at the sacred ford shall be 
final. 

A mile from the mouth the river bends away to the 
left, w T hile our road diverges to the right, and we have 
seen the last of the Jordan. We had fallen into a walk 
before reaching this point, and from a grass-covered 
valley the ground had assumed the character of a sandy 
plain. Again we all set off in a gallop, the sheik leading 
the w r ay. The action of the waves of the Dead Sea upon 
its low sandy shores to the north has thrown back a bank 
on that side several feet higher than the valley. We 
could not see the waters until we had ascended this ele- 
vation. This we did, and passed over and down till our 
horses' feet were washed, by the black and bitter waters. 
The wind was blowing hard from the southeast, and the 
waves burst upon the shore with considerable violence. 

I observed none of that air of deathlike stillness, none 
of that evidence of poisonous exhalations arising from 
the sea, of wi ich we read so much in books of travel. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



277 



The water is intensely salt. Possibly too salt to be 
stocked with fish. But that even is by no means certain. 
As for birds, I saw plenty of them all around and about 
the sea. Almost every bush or clump of heath had 
its little twittering songster. The border of the sea is 
not more desolate than that surrounding the lower part 
of the Carson River, and has on its immediate banks 
twice the vegetation that I saw on the shores of the Sink 
of the Humboldt. But the two lakes, the Humboldt and 
the Dead Sea, with their surroundings, are wonderfully 
alike. The same bare mountains hemming them in on all 
sides, and the same queer, oily, vegetable growth, known 
on the Humboldi: as greasewood, abounds upon the shores 
of the Dead Sea. All the bushes within two miles of the 
Dead Sea look as if a lucifer match would ignite them. I 
am sure they are all inflammable, even in their apparent 
green state, just as every one familiar with the green sage, 
the greasewood bushes, and even growing willows in the 
great basin between the Sierra Nevada and Salt Lake, 
knows to be the fact with those shrubs. In short, our 
people have not merely one, but half a dozen Dead Seas 
within their borders. Whether they will not also have 
their cities of the plain, their Sodoms and Gomorrahs, at 
the rate they go on, is a matter of no inconsiderable mo- 
ment. The shores where we stopped were completely 
strewed with drift-wood of all sizes and descriptions, 
from the entire trunks of great trees to the smallest 
piece of reed or cane fitted for a pipe stem. Millions of 
dead locusts lay scattered upon the shore, or surged back 
and forth upon the waves that poured upon the beach. 
These insects had evidently been drowned in attempting 
to pass the sea in their flight. They were probably the 
same variety that had been the curse of the- land of 
Egypt and the food of John the Baptist. 

A Franciscan monk accompanied the party from Jeru- 
salem, Brother Leovi by name. It was his seventieth 



278 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



trip to the Dead Sea. His sole duty at the convent was 
that of escorting travelers. He pointed out to us the site 
of the Cities of the Plain, of the identity of which he 
appeared to have no manner of doubt. Sodom was at the 
north, while a small promontory on the west was the sole 
relic above water of the accursed city of Gomorrah. He 
had told the story seventy times without hearing it ques- 
tioned, and it was high time he was beginning to believe 
it himself. The dreary shore of the Dead Sea at this 
place was not without romantic interest as being the 
scene of the meeting of the Leopard Knight and the 
Saracen Emir, so beautifully told by Sir Walter Scott in 
the Talisman. We rested an hour on the shore of the 
Dead Sea, convincing ourselves generally that it was a 
very pretty sheet of water. More ale bottles were pro- 
duced and filled, and pebbles, dead locusts, cane pipe- 
stems, and Dead Sea apples, collected as mementoes, and 
again we set off over the mountains for Mar-Saaba w T here 
we were to camp. Up, up, higher and higher the w r eary 
horses and donkeys made their way. Such roads, if they 
may be so called, are to be found nowhere else in the 
world. After two mortal hours we were at the top, and 
the great yawning gap of the Jordan Valley and Dead 
Sea again opened like a cavern beneath us. At intervals 
of half a mile we could see the waters of the Dead Sea 
twinkling below on the left as we would pass the moun- 
tain spurs and into the ravines that fell off that way, 
while as often the distant domes and minarets of Jerusa- 
lem glistened under the noon-day sun, to the right. Not 
a tree or bush, not the smallest shrub, relieves the rugged 
monotony of the bleak hill-tops. The country is made of 
so many thousand superficial and cubic miles of granite 
piled up and spread out as far as the eye can reach, with 
just enough of soil scattered in the crevices to give root 
to the short grass or the hardy thistle. But where the 
thistle can find moisture enough to sustain life, the bright 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



279 



red rose of Sharon is also at home, and raises her head 
proudly as the queenliest flower of the desert. 

Mar-Saaba is a Greek convent, built in times when for- 
tifications were even more necessary than now. It stands 
on a mountain spur overlooking the brook Kidron, a 
mountain torrent which rises beneath the distant walls of 
Jerusalem and flows past the convent into the Dead Sea. 
For a mile before reaching Mar-Saaba the road winds 
along the edge of the gorge, five hundred feet deep, at 
the bottom of which is the Kidron — while the sides of 
the granite precipice are still perforated with the caves of 
fifteen thousand hermits, ranged like so many pigeon- 
holes, and once inhabited by that number of Christian 
anchorites. This was in times when such a life was 
deemed more holy than now, and when the sj^ending of 
years in a cave, or at the top of a lofty column, entitled 
the devotee to a place in the calendar of saints. The 
convent, it is said, still preserves in its archives a com- 
plete and accurate record of the names of all these holy 
men, together with the number of the cell of each her- 
mit We would have sojourned with the holy men of 
Mar-Saaba but for the fact that their rules are unbend- 
ingly enforced against the admission of the softer sex 
within their sacred precincts. We were therefore forced 
to sleep in our tents outside the walls, but sufficiently 
near to feel somewhat protected by the vicinity. It is 
said that no woman has ever passed the portal of Mar- 
Saaba. Miss Harriet Martineau applied for admission 
and hospitality when she visited the East many years 
ago, but was of course denied. 



CHAPTER XXV. 



FROM MAR-SAABA TO THE BIRTHPLACE OF OUR LORD. 

The water stood about in puddles in the hollow rocks, 
and the young grass was wet and dripping as we looked 
out of our tent doors and down upon the Convent of Mar- 
Saaba. The proud roses of Sharon seemed to shake the 
globes of water from their imperial crests more bravely 
than humbler flowers, and to get, as if by right of beauty, 
the first look at the sun, which was just rising over the 
distant hills of Moab. It had rained almost without 
cessation the whole night. Scantier and his Syrian satel- 
lites had been moving, and breakfast was ready to be laid 
in the great tent. 

The sheik, with the guardian Bedouins, not having 
been asleep at all, were of course up and dressed. This 
was their last day with us, and it was high time to com- 
mence the collection of such sums as our benevolence or 
fears might lead us to give. Approaching me with great 
dignity, the sheik began: "Me good sheik; you very 
good master. You give me backshish." I referred him 
to the Captain, as being the sheik of our party, and one 
who gave with vast liberality. "Go to him," I said, 
" and fear not." In the mean time, we had agreed upon a 
sum to give, and it was ready when he came. It was 
four times what he had a right to expect, but still he was 
scarcely satisfied. " We were so good, so powerful, and 
so rich, while he was so poor and his tribe so numerous." 
All their mouths were to be filled from his store*, and they 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



were but indifferently supplied. His camels had died in 
great nivmbers the year before, and his goats were no longer 
proline. TVe were rich, and reckoned our camels by 
thousands, while our goats and asses were like the sand 
upon the desert. The God of Mohammed was also 
the God of the Christian ; and surely we would not leave 
him and his people in distress. In the mean time, the rep- 
resentatives of his tribe who had accompanied us drew 
around, and added their supplicating looks to the elo- 
quence of their chieftain. A hungrier set of fellows I 
must say I never laid eyes upon — gaunt as greyhounds, 
thin as wolves, lean and lank, they crowded about upon 
the rocks, their bumoose thrown open, exposing their 
ribs, which could be counted as easily as if they had been 
so many skeletons in an anatomical cabinet. The appeal 
could not be resisted. A new collection was taken up 
this time for the famished tribe. Old knives were brought 
forth, put with the remnants of copper piasters and brazen 
paras, and the whole distributed among the hungry chil- 
dren of the desert. At last all was ready, and the party 
mounted. We were now considered to be out of danger, 
and our escort no longer necessary. Solemn leave was 
taken of the sheik and each of the band. It was like 
the parting of companions in arms — we had shared with 
them the dangers and the pleasures of three days of 
even t ful com p anions h i p . 

It is ten miles or more from Mar-Saaba to Bethlehem 
along the summit of the same mountain on which rests 
Jerusalem. For the first half hour we ascended from the 
valley of the Kidron to the hill-tops, and again the dome 
of Omar's Mosque glistened under the sun at the right, 
while down in the earth's center, to the left, floated the 
foga that hung over the Dead Sea. TTe had parted at 
Mar-Saaba with our escort, as we thought, forever. But 
to my surprise, as I turned the point of a hill, an armed 
Bedouin started from behind a rock, and came toward me. 



282 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



It proved to be Alii, one of the boys, who had, during the 
journey, made himself especially attentive to us by driving 
my wife's donkey and leading him around the dangerous 
passes. He gave us to understand that he could not find 
it in his heart to leave us so unceremoniously as he had 
done in the morning, but had taken a short cut up the 
mountain to say "Mar Salaama" once more for the last 
time. I. was quite touched with this indication of an 
affectionate nature, and bade him a tender adieu, not 
omitting to again drop a few piasters of backshish in his 
hand. Receiving it with gratitude, he disappeared behind 
the rock, as I supposed, for the last time. But I was mis- 
taken ; for a turn in the road soon revealed to me not only 
Alii, but the sheik and the whole tribe running by the 
side of the company, each one asking for more backshish 
under one pretense or another. And this they kept up till 
we were within a half mile of the walls of Bethlehem, 
when they finally left us, to be seen no more. 

The city of David is set upon a hill, or rather a narrow 
ridge, and overlooks a more extensive country than even 
Jerusalem. Its appearance is striking. Coming up from 
Mar-Saaba, it can be seen miles away, at first over a des- 
olate and stony plain, and then changing gradually to a 
better soil, where fruit, barley, and other grain are grown. 
Two miles before reaching it, olives begin to sprinkle the 
land, and finally, as we ascend the acclivity leading to 
the convent, whole groves and forests of this beautiful 
tree, planted upon walled terraces, cover the landscape 
with its dark rich green. The Franciscan brother who 
had accompanied us on our journey here ordered a halt, 
and we all turned aside to visit the spot where the shep- 
herds were abiding with their flocks by night, when the 
" glory of the Lord shone around them," and an angel 
proclaimed " the good tidings of great joy." The place 
of the shepherds is at the bottom of a cave in the center 
of a field of growing grain. A heavy stone wall incloses 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



283 



an acre of land, and here is the cave. A chapel has for 
ages occupied the spot where the rustics are supposed to 
have kept their watch on that eventful night. But the 
field is interesting as being also the scene of the sweetest, 
and perhaps the most romantic of all the Bible events. 
It was here that Ruth, the daughter-in-law of Naomi, 
gleaned after the reapers of that "mighty man of wealth," 
Boaz, the son of Salmon. The whole scene of the story 
was spread out before us. In the distance the tops of the 
mountains that marked the boundaries of the land of 
Moab, from whence she had followed Naomi to Bethle- 
hem, was the last that could be seen on the horizon to the 
east. She had crossed the Jordan at the ford, and toiled 
her way up the mountain of Judea, and along the Kidmii 
to the field of Boaz, her kinsman, by precisely the road 
we had come. And how weary were the wayfaring 
women, we might form some estimate after having ridden 
over the road. The field of Boaz extends quite up to the 
walls of the town ; while overlooking it from the brow of 
the hill, stands the Convent of the Nativity, grim and 
gray as an old baronial castle. 

A little esplanade separates the convent from the vil- 
lage, and through this our party of Christians and Mos- 
lems, horses and mules and donkeys, wound its way to 
the door, where two or three jolly looking brothers stood 
waiting to receive us. The Frere Leovi had ridden ahead 
of the party and announced our coming. The great con- 
fectory of the convent was already being spread as if for 
a feast. But before we had time to sit down coifee and 
lemonade were served around freely to all who would 
partake, with a hospitable and kindly spirit that I have 
never seen equaled except in other Franciscan establish- 
ments in the East. The court-yards, halls, and public 
rooms of the convent were crowded with people selling 
rosaries, crosses, and religious relics, in olive-wood, shell, 
and bone, for the manufacture of which Bethlehem is 



284 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



celebrated throughout Palestine. This is the chief occu- 
pation of the three thousand inhabitants of the place, all 
of whom are Christians. There was formerly a Moham- 
medan quarter ; but numerous quarrels and battles occur- 
ring between the followers of the rival creeds, Ibrahim 
Pasha, in 1834, ordered it to be entirely destroyed, which 
was done ; since which time Christianity is the sole faith 
of the population of the birthplace of the Saviour. The 
ladies of Bethlehem are celebrated for their beauty, and 
my observation accords with the popular notion. They 
go unveiled, a thing I have observed nowhere else in the 
East. They wear a sort of black felt hat, with no rim — 
but a sort of cape of white cotton cloth drops down over 
the shoulders. The beauty of the fair Bethlehemites is 
of a most decided European or American type, for, saving 
the dress, almost every one of them might be natives of 
Spain, England, or even California. 

In and about the convent are many places of interest, 
such as the tombs of Saint Eusebius and Saint Jerome. 
There is a cave where the latter saint spent so many years 
of his life, and where he composed those works that have 
earned for him the title of Father of the Church." But 
in a vault beneath the great building is the center of all 
observation, and the spot w r hich attracts the attention 
and charms the mind of true believers. It is the Chapel 
of the Nativity, said to occupy the identical site of the 
stable where our Saviour was born. It is reached by a 
flight of stone steps going directly from the main floor of 
the church into the bowels of the earth. For it appears 
that the stable, like the shepherd's watching-place, was in 
a cave. It is hewn in the solid rock, and is about forty 
feet long by eleven wide. A marble slab is fixed in the 
place, with a silver star in the center. Around the star 
are the words: 

Hie de Virgine Maria Jesus Chrisiw w'tttfi est. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



285 



The manger is no longer here, but has been removed to 
Rome, where it is exhibited by the Pope to the faithful 
at the church of Santa Maria Majore once a year. But 
in place of the original, a marble manger has been made, 
which is said to be in all respects like the true one, ex- 
cept in the substance from which it is made. Hard by 
the chapel or stable is a little cell or cave where St. 
Joseph retired at the moment of the birth of the infant 
Jesus, and on the opposite side of the grotto is an altar 
covering the spot where the wise men of the East knelt 
when they adored the Saviour. 

The stable of the Nativity has been changed wonder- 
fully, so far as decoration is concerned, since the night 
when an overcrowded inn compelled the Blessed Virgin 
and family to seek rest therein. Blazoned with gold and 
silver and silk, faced with marble, and redolent with in- 
cense and sweet perfumes and Indian wood, it has as lit- 
tle of the stable about it now as if there had never been 
a horse, an ass, or a camel in all the East to occupy or 
give character to such a place. Round the star are sus- 
pended sixteen or more silver lamps. These are continu- 
ally kept burning with perfumed oil. Behind these and 
along the apse are gilt pictures of various saints of the 
Latin and Greek calendar. For it must be borne in mind 
that the stable where the Saviour was born is in the com- 
mon occupancy of all the Christian sects of the East ; no 
one having any exclusive right to it. The altar is plain 
and unfinished, each set of priests fitting it up when they 
intend to hold any sort of ceremonies there. The Greek 
church not having adopted the Gregorian calendar, I be- 
lieve, Christmas, Easter, and in fact all the great feasts, 
naturally fall on different days from those used by the 
Catholics. But however that may be, the Catholics, 
the Armenians, the Greeks, and the Copts have each the 
same right, and claim and fight for equal privileges here. 
The various grottoes are minutely measured off by survey- 



286 GOING TO JERIGRO; OR, 



ors with proper instruments, and accurately distributed 
among the rival sects by the impartial though infidel 
Turks. Many a keen and bitter contest has occurred on 
the spot for a few inches of wall, the fraction of an altar, 
or a square foot of pavement. And I am not sure, 
though stating from recollection merely, that the war 
that convulsed Europe in 1854 and 1855, was not caused, 
or at least occasioned, by a dispute at Bethlehem on the 
right to open or shut some of the doors that lead in or 
about the caves and passages beneath the Convent of the 
Nativity. 

Having visited all the interesting places about the site 
of the birthplace of the Saviour, we returned to the great 
confectory, where we partook of the excellent breakfast 
that had been prepared for us, and then set off to visit 
the Milk Grotto. This is a large cavern hollowed in a 
chalky rock of the ridge, about a quarter of a mile below 
the convent. The Frere Leovi undertook to shorten our 
w T alk to it, by passing through that part of the building 
occupied by the Greek priests. The gates were all open 
as we approached, so that but for some faithful orthodox 
Greek sentinel giving a timely alarm we should have 
speedily marched through, as all Bethlehem was doing 
at its pleasure. But the alarm was sounded that some 
infidel Catholics were getting an advantage which might, 
without objection, grow into a right, and the door was 
closed in our faces just as we were in the act of passing 
out into the street on that side. The brother made no 
attempt to get the unfriendly gate opened, scorning to 
ask a favor at the hands of the unbelieving imps, but 
marched us all back to the place from whence we had 
started and around to the grotto. What gives the Milk 
Grotto its peculiar interest is the fact that the Virgin and 
Child concealed themselves here for a considerable pe- 
riod, pending the persecution of Herod, and before they 
were conducted into the land of Egypt. It appears that 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



287 



the rock in which the grotto is situated, obtained its 
whiteness from some drops of the Virgin's milk whicli 
accidentally fell upon it on that occasion. This circum- 
stance imparted to it the peculiar and interesting quality 
of miraculously increasing women's milk. The stone is 
soft, and pieces are broken off and conveyed to Europe 
and Africa, and perhaps America, to be administered to 
such as need its wondrous powers. 

The road from Bethlehem to Jerusalem is less rocky 
and rough than any of the thoroughfares that lead out 
of the holy city, yet is so covered and filled up with 
stones, that it is with considerable difficulty that a mule 
can pick its way along it. There is no furlong of the 
whole route which could be safely traversed by even the 
strongest wagon or cart of our country. Stunted olive- 
trees find just enough soil between the stones to sustain 
a precarious life, and cultivation for grains or vegetables 
would be impossible. 

A mile or more from Bethlehem, fifty feet to the left 
of the road, on the open plain or mountain top, stands a 
square stone structure, with but one door, and covered 
with a round, oven-shaped roof, of the same solid material. 
It is the tomb of Rachel ; and what is above and beyond 
all, appears to be undoubtedly authentic. It is one of the 
very few shrines in the Holy Land which Moslem, Jew, 
and Christian agree in honoring, and concerning which 
their traditions are identical. There is no narrative in 
holy writ more simple, more graphic, or more affecting, 
than that which renders this spot sacred in the eyes of 
those who believe in. the God of Israel. Jacob had 
been ordered to arise and go up to Bethel. The inherit- 
ance of Abraham and Isaac had been promised to him, 
and his name had been made Israel. With obedient faith 
he gathered together his family, his servants, and his 
flocks, and set out along the stony mountain road. 

" And they journeyed from Bethel, and there was but 



2S8 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



a little way to come to Ephrath : and Rachel travailed, 
and she had hard labor. 

" And it came to pass, when she was in hard labor, 
that the midwife said unto her, Fear not, thou shalt have 
this son also. 

"And it came to pass, as her soul was departing (for 
she died), that she called his name Benoni, but his father 
called him Benjamin. 

"And Rachel died, and was buried in the way to 
Ephrath, which is Bethlehem. 

" And Jacob set a pillar upon her grave : that is the 
pillar of Rachel's grave unto this day." 

The pillar has long since been swept away by the ruth- 
less hand of time. But thirty centuries of sorrow and 
suffering have failed to sweep away its memory from the 
posterity of Rachel. "We gathered roses of Sharon and 
sweet violets from the tomb of the mother of Israel to 
take to a land in the far West, where her story and 
memory are to-day as fresh as when Moses wrote or 
Christ suffered. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



THE MAKIGOLDS OF GETHSEMAOTE. 

We were to leave the holy city in the morning at eight 
o'clock. It was now four in the afternoon, and we had 
not visited the Garden of Gethsemane. True, we had 
walked or ridden around its solid walls almost a score of 
times, but by some chance, hammer and pound as we 
would at the iron door, we had never been able to arouse 
the sleepy gardener and to gain admittance. But as if the 
fates were against the accomplishment of our desires, it 
began to rain just as we were ready to set off I think 
I should have been quite discouraged and given up the 
enterprise in despair ; but two ladies were to accompany 
me, and these had courage enough for the three. 
Equipped with a stout umbrella, we started. 

It is but a short distance from the walls of the town. 
From the hotel to St. Stephen's gate by the Via Doloroso 
is a walk of three minutes. And from the outside of that 
gate Gethsemane is at the bottom of Jehoshaphat and 
almost beneath our feet. The hilly sides of Kidron being 
almost a precipice from any point without the eastern 
wall, one can look down into Gethsemane, which is a 
walled in closure of about one acre in area. It follows 
that after arriving at St. Stephen's gate, nothing is left to 
do but descend an abrupt hill of a hundred and fifty feet, 
cross the Kidron upon a small bridge, and knock at the 
garden door. This we did, and by good fortune soon 
heard the guardian working at the door on the inside, 
13 



290 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



trying to open it. It is probable that not many people 
visit the little garden, for the old fellow worked some 
time at the door, and then went back to his house to get 
another key, before he could let us in. At last, with a 
great deal of creaking, the gate ground upon its hinges 
and came open. An old Franciscan monk with his brown 
habit, reaching from neck to heel, bound at the waist with 
a rope, and bearing a spade in one hand and a rosary of 
black beads in the other, stood within and invited us in 
Italian to enter. 

It would appear to be waste of time to recapitulate the 
incidents in the life of the Saviour which have given such 
an interest to this garden. Here he endured that " agony 
and bloody sweat" connected with the redemption of 
the world. Hard by is the place where his apostles slept 
while these terrible emotions were rending the humanity 
of our Lord. Into this inclosure Judas, followed by the 
minions of the law, entered and committed that act of 
crowning baseness, which was to give him so eminent a 
position at the head of all traitors. The old monk was 
polite and friendly, and upon perceiving that some of his 
guests were ladies, he hurried away to his cell at the 
corner of the garden, and brought forth an immense blue 
cotton umbrella and gallantly held it over them. It rained 
too hard at first to permit a stroll in the garden, so we 
were glad to avail ourselves of his offer to enter his little 
shed and wait till the storm passed away. An iron bed- 
stead occupied one corner of the room, and a rough 
wooden table and two chairs of the same material com- 
pleted his furniture. Baskets filled with beads and crosses 
of olive-wood, either finished or in course of construction, 
showed that the old monk followed, pretty industriously, 
the business of making this class of sacred goods. Rosa- 
ries and the like, from olive-wood of Gethsemane, are 
highly prized among Catholics. 

The storm soon passed away to the west, covering with 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



291 



its cloudy mantle the neighboring mountains of Moriah 
and Zion, while the heavy thunder rolled about the peaks 
of Omar and the distant tower of David. But to the 
east the green summit of Olivet stood forth in all the 
splendor of the setting sun. Umbrellas were closed as 
we sallied into the little garden and followed the old 
monk around its walks. Eight noble olive-trees unite 
their dark foilage in almost hiding from the sun the soil 
of Gethsemane. They are said to be the identical trees 
under which the disciples slept and the Son of Man prayed 
and agonized on the night of the terrible drama of his 
seizure and judgment. There appears to be no objection 
to this tradition upon the score of the oldness of the 
trees. They look as if they might be double the required 
age. The garden is not kept in such repair as might be 
thought due to its sacred character. A few marigolds 
grow in a bed near the center, while pansies adorn the 
walks, of which there are four in all; one next to the 
wall inclosing the whole, and three crossing the garden 
at different places. Nor is it probable that the soil of 
Gethsemane has been exalted to the honor of giving 
vitality to plants more rare or rich than flourished there 
when its quiet walks were frequented by our Saviour and 
his disciples. A quarter of its surface performs the hum- 
ble office of sustaining cauliflowers, while ignoble cabbages 
and beets hold possession of as much more — symbolic, 
after all, of the character of the meek and lowly Redeemer, 
who condescended to seek his companions among the 
poor, and of the food of life he had to give them. 

The four walls are ornamented upon their inner faces 
by pictures set therein, representing what is known in 
Catholic churches as the stations upon the march of 
Christ from Pilate's house along the Via Doloroso to the 
crucifixion on Calvary. They are, I believe, sixteen in 
number, and represent the flagellation, the crowning with 
thorns, the three several times when he fainted and fell 



292 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



under the burden of the cross, the presentation of the 
handkerchief by St. Veronica, the assistance of Simon the 
Cyrenian, and the other incidents of that terrible event. 
A marble tablet set in the wall near the gate records that 
a Spanish lady of Madrid, whose name I omitted to take 
down, had at her own expense paved the outer walk of 
the garden, and caused the pictures to be set up. 

The good monk, having shown us about the place as 
much as we desired, cut for the ladies a bouquet each of 
the marigolds and pansies, and upon learning that one of 
them desired it, cut each several stout sticks of olive- 
wood from the trees under which the Saviour is said to 
have lain. This done he offered to accompany us to the 
tomb of the Virgin Mary, which is but a few yards to the 
north of the garden, and there bless the olive-wood upon 
that sacred shrine. Not so much upon our own account 
as for the sake of friends in America, who think highly 
of such ceremonies, and to whom such things might be 
acceptable as presents, we consented, and the old monk, 
taking them in his gardener's bag, we set off for the 
tomb of the Mother of Jesus. 

This is on the opposite side of the road which leads 
down from St. Stephen's gate, across Kidron, to Olivet 
and Bethany, and about a hundred feet from the north 
wall of Gethsemane. It is a low building with a hand- 
some facade standing in a sunk court at the very bottom 
of the lowest part of the valley of Jehoshaphat. There is 
no structure or spot about Jerusalem more romantic than 
this, and it would claim attention and be worthy of a visit 
independently of the tradition which directs the eyes of 
the Catholic world toward it. Gray and worn by the 
lapse of time, surrounded by olive-trees as venerable as 
those of Gethsemane, and overshadowed by the lofty 
crest of Olivet, beneath whose very base it rests, and of 
Moriah upon the other, this chapel and tomb are as 
remarkable for the venerable aspect of its situation as 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 293 



for the interesting circumstance that has rendered it 
sacred in the eyes of so many Christians. But, notwith- 
standing this is the tomb of the Virgin, it must not be 
understood that her body rests within it ; for, according 
to the Catholic faith, as well as that of most Oriental 
Christians, the body of the Virgin ascended to heaven 
direct, and no longer remains upon earth. And this 
" Assumption," as it is called in the Catholic church, 
occurred at this place. The body having been once laid 
within the tomb, afterward ascended to heaven. The 
stone tomb, profusely decorated with flowers and pic- 
tures, and ornamented with hanging silver lamps and 
ostrich eggs, is of course now empty, but, like the Holy 
Sepulcher of the Saviour on Calvary, is entitled in the 
eyes of Catholics and Greeks to great honor, as having 
once contained the body now in heaven. On the left 
hand of the stairs leading down into the chapel is another 
tomb in marble, the last resting-place of Joseph, the hus- 
band of the Virgin Mary, while on the right are the 
tombs of Joachim and Anna, her parents. 

The establishment appears to be divided up, as in the 
Church of the Holy Sepulcher and others in Jerusalem, 
between the various rival Christian sects. And while the 
Catholics have the custody of several saintly burial-places, 
the Greeks, too, have rival establishments but a few feet 
away, which they set up as being equally sanctified, if 
not even more worthy of reverence. One of the tombs 
which was shown us was in the custody of the Greek 
church, and before we could see it, the good monk was 
obliged to ask permission of one of that hated denomina- 
tion. He evidently did not like to humiliate himself by 
having intercourse with so wicked a fellow, especially as 
the request might be construed into an indirect acknowl- 
edgment of the genuineness of the tomb of a Greek 
saint. But his desire to oblige us got the better of his 
feelings, and the request was made. 



294 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



The black-gowned and rimless-hatted priest who held 
the key came forward, and supposing us to be Catholics, 
took but little pains to be polite. We were in bad com- 
pany, according to his notion. If he had known that we 
were Protestants it would have made his demeanor much 
more urbane. It is better here to be an infidel than a 
member of a hostile sect. One with no religion at all is 
tolerated and even courted, but to be a Catholic, is to 
invite the horror and disgust of a Greek ; to be an 
Armenian is to debar yourself from ordinary human 
rights in the eyes of a Catholic. So far as I was con- 
cerned, having entered the place under the wing of our 
gardener monk from Gethsemane, I felt enlisted under 
the Catholic banner for the time, and accordingly, in 
good faith, hated the rascally Greek priest even more 
cordially than did our guide. I stumped around his 
trumpery little tomb as contemptuously and flippantly as 
if, instead of containing the body of a defunct saint of 
the Greek church, the villainous priest himself had been 
buried there. Scarcely looking at the picture that hung 
over it, or the gilt lamps that lighted it, I shoved my 
hands into my pockets and sauntered about, taking no 
pains to conceal my indifference. The most casual 
observer would have known that I had no faith in the 
sanctity of the Greek saint. The priest saw my unbelief 
and scowled Greek curses at me from under his black 
eyebrows. Passing back to the other side, to the tombs 
of Catholic saints, and in plain view of the Greek priest, 
I added to his disgust by paying even more than usual 
deference to the tomb of the rival establishment over 
the way. 

In fact, it is impossible to be around when these little 
feuds are going on without taking sides. If you are seen 
in company with a Catholic, the Greek or Armenian puts 
you down for an enemy, and you soon get to believing 
that you are as unfriendly as he assumes you to be. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



295 



Besides, English and Americans are almost sure upon 
coming to the East to be laid under obligations to the 
Catholics. True, we could have been entertained at the 
various Hospices of the Greek church, supported by 
the Russian Government, but we felt nearer to the 
Catholics, and gave them the preference. We all had 
friends at home who are Catholics, but none who are 
Greeks. To Americans generally, the Greek faith is as 
outlandish as the worship of Brahma. In your host's 
quarrels, it is but right that you should take his side, 
and this I think Western Protestants generally do. I 
have never known an American or Englishman to stop at 
one of the Greek convents. But if they should do so, 
they might, and probably would, enter upon that side 
of the fight, and stand up for the Greeks and against the 
Latins. 

Having visited not only the genuine holy places of the 
Catholics about the tomb and chapel of the Virgin, as 
well as the false ones of the Greeks, we emerged from its 
sacred precincts, and took our road up the hill-side, to 
St. Stephen's gate. The monk who had accompanied us 
from the garden, in order to bless our olive-wood, now 
insisted upon carrying it in his bag home to our hotel. 
x\nd nothing we could say to the contrary would stop 
him. So, with it thrown over his back, though he was 
full seventy years old, he humbly and patiently jogged up 
the hill-side, and along the Via Doloroso, quite to our 
hotel door, where he bade us adieu with his warmest 
blessing. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 



JOURNEYING TO JAFFA. 

Scander, our dragoman, had charged me thirty-five 
dollars, American money, for bringing myself and wife 
from Jaffa up to Jerusalem. This charge included trans- 
portation of person and baggage, as well as board, lodg- 
ing, and that which he laid the most stress upon, 
protection. But the Eastern traveler must go over the 
country about three times before he learns the tricks of 
these fellows. I saw enough to convince me that the 
protection business was a humbug ; that if the Bedouins 
intend to rob a traveler they will not do it any the less 
because he has been, before setting out upon the voyage, 
swindled out of two prices by a rascally dragoman. 
Accordingly, two days before I was ready to return I sent 
for Scander and told him I wanted to go to Jaffa. " For 
what will you take me down ?" I asked. He could not 
attend to it himself. He was, he said, going overland to 
Damascus ; but he had a friend who was a Christian, who 
could do so. He would fetch him. In two minutes 
the "good Christian" stood before me, accompanied by 
Scander. "This is my brother," said that reputable 
gentleman. " He has horses and donkeys ; he will take 
you to Jaffa and protect you froni the Arabs at a reason- 
able price." " What is that price ?" I demanded. " My 
brother is a Christian and will not charge you too much," 
said Scander, apparently turning the matter over in his 
mind, as if seeking for an answer, or rather for an excuse 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



297 



to evade the question. " He is very honest ; you can 
depend upon my brother. He is a Christian." I had not 
obtained the very highest opinions of Syrian Christians. 
"I wish to know the price in advance," I insisted. 
" For what will you take this gentleman, his wife, and 
baggage to Jaffa, Sulliman?" said Scander to his brother. 
" Do not charge him high, above all things, for he is not 
only a Christian but my warmest friend." A conversation 
ensued between the brothers in Arabic. They were very 
evidently discussing the question of how much I would 
stand. "My brother is disposed to be very liberal. If 
there was a party of you such as I brought up, he could 
take you at the very low price you paid me for coming 
from Jaffa hither, but as it is, lie will be content with the 
sum of fifteen golden Napoleons ; and I assure you it is 
low." " Scander," said I, " you are the only honest fellow 
I have met with in all the East. I feel sure, however, 
that your brother is misleading you as well as me about 
the prices. I have made inquiries of the landlord of the 
hotel and other persons, about the matter, and know just 
what it is worth. To take me down will require two 
good saddle-horses for myself and the lady — one strong 
mule for the baggage, and a donkey for the mukarah. 
We will go the first day to Ramleh, and the second to 
Jaffa. The price for this service is two Napoleons or a 
hundred and eighty-six piasters Turkish money. But 
you, as well as your brother, are a Christian, and I feel very 
friendly with you both on that account. I will therefore 
give you three Napoleons ; so go along with you, and be 
sure and have the horses here in time." " But the escort 
for your protection ? You may be robbed by the 
Bedouins." " I'll take care of that myself, Scander; just 
bring me the animals, and a mukarah to take care of 
them." 

I had talked with General Beaubischeau, the American 
consul, about the matter, and understood it pretty well. 
13* 



298 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



"The road," he said, "is as safe as that from Paris to 
LoDdon, but these rogues keep up the story about the 
danger simply to get money. I will send a couple of 
bashi-bazouks with you if you want them, but if you will 
believe me, they will only board at your expense. If the 
Bedouins want to rob you they will come in such force 
that you can not resist them, and you will get off better 
by not attempting it ; and if they do so, file the claim 
with me and your loss will be made good in a month. 
One hundred dragomans or fifty bashi-bazouks would not 
alter the result." 

We had planned to start at seven o'clock, but it was 
half-past eight before we were ready. Our bedroom door 
at the inn opened out upon the roof of one of the stories 
of the house. This, like all the rest, was of solid stone. 
As we issued forth we found both sides of the passage- 
way in front of our chamber thronged with double rows 
of cooks and mukarahs. They were the attaches of our 
movable camp in our travels from Jaffa to Jerusalem 
and out to the Jordan and Dead Sea. Abdallah, the 
head cook, being the chief personage of the lot in point 
of dignity, led the band by standing nearest the door. 
The ostensible object of the demonstration, was to bid 
adieu to us after our journeyings. The real one was to 
obtain backshish. 

It is the custom to pay a small sum by way of backshish 
to all who have served you. The price agreed upon, no 
matter how exorbitant, implies, according to their rules, 
an additional gratuity. I passed along the line bidding 
each adieu, and giving at the same time an Egyptian coin 
of five piasters, equal to about 23 cents American. To 
Abdallah, I gave two of them. The mukarahs were all 
well pleased; but the cook in chief evidently thought 
the sum small. He turned it over in his hand with a 
smile of contempt. "It is not enough, Abdallah," said I. 
He agreed with me. I held out my hand for it, and 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



299 



he handed it back. I slipped it in my pocket, and passed 
on. Abdullah looked nonplused, and the others laughed 
at him. He was a pure-blooded African, with black skin 
and kinky hair, from Nubia. The others were all Syrians, 
and had white skins. I was anxious to see if his dignity 
would hold out against the temptation to ask me again for 
the money, feeling quite sure that his white comrades 
would have done so. But the result justified my opinion 
of his race. Blood will tell. Although I passed and re- 
passed the " nigger " three or four times before getting 
away from Jerusalem, he never once so much as looked 
at me. His natural contempt for my color and conduct 
entirely overbalanced his cupidity. He sacrified the — in 
Jerusalem — not inconsiderable sum of a half dollar upon 
the altar of his pride. 

The trunks had been strapped upon the pack-mule, and 
the horses were standing beneath the stone arch that 
covers the way leading from the Damascus gate to the 
Mosque of Omar, in which the inn stood. Our friends 
were all standing on the stone steps to bid us adieu. 
Scander took me aside, and intimated that I had better 
bribe the custom-house officer at the gate on going out, 
as otherwise he would insist upon unpacking the mule, and 
opening the trunks. I agreed to this without hesitation, 
and inquired what sum would suffice to corrupt that 
worthy official. He thought ten piasters would be 
enough, but recommended that I give it to the mukarah 
before setting out on the journey, and thus save myself 
any further trouble on this point. To this I readily assent- 
ed, placing the required coin in the hands of the youth. 
The mukarah was simply an Arab boy of sixteen years, 
whose duty it was to drive the pack-mule and take care 
of the horses. He was mounted upon a donkey of the 
size of a sheep. Our hotel being near to the Damascus 
gate, we started in that direction, but were ordered back 
by the mukarah in short order. He was in command of 



300 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



the expedition, and insisted, for some renson, that we 
must go out at the Jaffa gate. He knew hut one sentence 
of any language not Arabic, and this he yelled at us at the 
top of his voice whenever he could get within hearing 
distance. His knowledge of languages, other than his 
own, was limited to the Italian words " andiamo, Sig- 
nore," equivalent to " come on," in English. This he had 
picked up about the convents and hurled at us from all 
directions and for all purposes. If we stopped for one 
moment for any purpose, or turned aside, or even looked 
back, we would hear the shrill voice of the little rascal 
yelling after us from some hill-top a mile behind, Andiamo, 
signore, andiamo. When we reached the gate, as we 
expected, the whole custom-house force rushed out at us, 
as if some notorious band of smugglers were attempting 
to get by. They all had flint-lock muskets, but one tall 
fellow was armed with a cutlass. He was the Collector 
of the Port. One of the musketeers, evidently the Sur- 
veyor, seized the pack-mule by the head and brought him 
to a halt. It looked for a moment as if our trunks would 
have to come off. An export duty is laid upon many ar- 
ticles leaving Jerusalem, and the officials looked honest 
and incorruptible. If there was to be an election shortly, 
it was quite clear that we could not be there to vote or 
work the ticket. But the mukarah spoke a word in Ara- 
bic to the Collector of the Port. He in turn issued an 
order to the Surveyor, who released the mule. "Andi- 
amo, signore" shouted the boy, and we moved on, the 
pack-mule following. The boy stayed back, apparently 
to arrange the matter. When we reached the Russian 
Hospital, a large building a quarter of a mile from the 
gate, we stopped to wait for the mukarah. We soon saw 
him galloping up the road as fast as his little donkey 
could carry him, but to our surprise as well as anxiety, 
the Collector and the Surveyor were also pursuing him in 
full run. The boy w r as laughing and the officers talking 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



301 



loudly and angrily. They came directly to me and asked 
for backshish, giving me at the same time to understand 
in bad Italian that the boy had promised them ten piasters, 
and upon the mule being passed had refused to pay it. 
I turned my horse's head toward Jaffa, and pointing at 
the mukarah told them that he was the holder of the 
purse. The boy grinned in the faces of the exasperated 
authorities, holding the money in his teeth where they 
could see its edge. But they did not attempt to stop him. 
He followed us, and the Collector and Surveyor of Jeru- 
salem turned back, I have no doubt, with new plans for 
the future. 

We did not wait for our baggage to keep with us, but 
posted on down the mountain as fast as possible. The 
day was beautiful, being in the very opening of spring. 
Two or three bare-legged, tramping Arabs set off down 
the country as we did, and so bad are the roads that a 
footman has quite the weather-gage of travelers on horse- 
back. They could easily keep up with us if they desired, 
and unfortunately for my entire mental comfort, they 
chose to do so. The reputation of the country was not 
first-rate. They might be honest wayfarers or they might 
be prowlers after mischief. The real fact no doubt w^as, 
that they kept along with the idea of begging food in 
case we stopped on the roadside for refreshment; but 
near Kirjath-Jearim there are two miles of good road for 
horseback traveling, and this we improved to get away 
from our unwelcome companions. 

At the foot of the mountain we stopped opposite a road- 
side khan. A dozen camel-drivers, bringing oranges from 
Jaffa to Jerusalem, were smoking, and drinking coffee, 
the laden beasts lying down outside. The Arab publican 
came across the road the moment we stopped, bringing 
wooden stools and taking charge of our horses. Having 
secured them to posts driven in the ground, lie returned 
to the house and brought out the inevitable coffee-pot 



302 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



and the little cups. We ate our luncheon, which we had 
brought along, the camel-drivers meanwhile staring curi- 
ously at us from the porch. When we had finished, we 
drank each a cup of coffee ; our horses were brought to 
us, and we were assisted to mount. I inquired the charge. 
The host gave us to understand that it was not for one 
so humble as him to place a limit upon the boundless gen- 
erosity of the great Frankish lord who, with his favorite 
wife, had left the West to visit the land of the morning. 
At this hint I gave him ten piasters (a half-dollar), which, 
in the Oriental style, he reverentially touched to his fore- 
head, his lips, and his breast, bidding us ?nar-salaama ; 
and we set off for Ramleh. 

The sun was just setting as we rode through the 
prickly-pear hedges that lead to the convent, and the 
muezzins were in the mosque-towers calling all good Mus- 
sulmans to prayer, assuring the faithful that it was better 
than food or sleep. It was the first time we had heard 
the cry. Leaning over the balcony of the minaret, first 
upon one of its four sides and then, in their order, the other 
three, he calls in all directions in the sweet, wild song of 
Arabia, the notes of which I had heard so often in Spain, 
" There is no God but God. To prayer ! Lo ! God is 
great." 

We were the only travelers in the convent at Ramleh 
that night. A good supply of lamb and chicken was set 
before us by the Italian lay-brother, whose duty it is to 
relieve the wants of wayfarers ; and then good, clean beds, 
built upon the rod-iron bedsteads of Italy, were furnished 
us. I asked the brother to let us sleep till eight o'clock 
in the morning before calling us, to which he readily con- 
sented ; but to our surprise, at daybreak we heard a loud 
knock at the door. 

I opened the door and looked out. It was the muka- 
rah. " What do you want, you rascal ?" " Andiamo, 
signore, andiamo" he said, pointing in the direction of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



303 



Jaffa. "Go away, you good-for-nothing," said I, slam- 
ming the door in his face and jumping back into bed. I 
lay there a quarter of an hour, when I heard a terrible 
groaning and whining at the door. Some one was evi- 
dently in great distress. Again I got up and looked out. 
It was the boy. He was lying on his face, writhing and 
twisting as if in the agonies of death. I was alarmed. 
The boy was evidently terribly sick. He acted as if un- 
der the influence of strychnine. He looked up at me and 
gave a terrible groan, and rolled off the steps. It did not 
seem possible that he could live half an hour. I went 
out and looked around the convent for help. But no one 
was up. It was yet too early. " What is the matter?" I 
tried to ask him. He groaned and writhed and faintly 
whispered, " Andiamo, signore." I could do nothing for 
him, and went back to my room. But I could hear the 
poor fellow's groans, and his faint appeals to me of "An- 
diamo, signore," at intervals. At last I began to hear the 
sound of others moving about the convent, and turned 
out to seek help for the dying boy. The brother came 
and looked at him. He shook his head and smiled. 
" There is nothing the matter," he said. " He wants to 
get on to Jaffa, where there is a great Mohammedan fes- 
tival to-day." I could not conceive it to be possible for 
the little rascal to be such a perfect actor, but could not 
help the matter, so left him and got breakfast; but the 
event justified the good brother's opinion, for when we 
came out from breakfast we found the horses ready sad- 
dled, the mule packed and at the door, while the sick 
mukarah, mounted upon his little donkey, led off down 
the Jaffa road, singing his Arab song as cheerily as if he 
had never known a moment's sickness in his whole life. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 



COASTING m THE GREAT SEA. 



The Franciscan brother called us to a comfortable 
breakfast at eight o'clock on the morning we were to 
leave Jaffa. The Austrian steamer would be in port in an 
hour, he said, and we must not leave the Convent of the 
"Terra Santa" with empty stomachs. Stewed lamb, pre- 
served fruits, and coffee were served to us in the break- 
fast-room in sufficient quantities, and the great oranges 
of Jaffa without stint. While we ate, the Superior of 
the Order in Palestine, in whose bed we had slept the 
night before, arrived from Ramleh, whither he had been 
upon a journey connected with his responsible office. 
Followed by two serving-brothers, the great church lord 
paid us a visit of state in the breakfast-room. But he 
would not sit down. He came to know if his guests had 
been well treated, and to bid them welcome in an offi- 
cial way. We had not only been well treated, but had 
been entertained beyond our expectations. The good 
priest was pleased to hear it, and bade us adieu. Four 
and twenty or more of Syrians, with bag-legged trou- 
sers, hung about the door, waiting to seize upon our bag- 
gage as we should come out of the convent. As many 
boatmen were ready to carry us off to the steamer. We 
were known to be the only passengers in the town. The 
matter had been no doubt discussed among the bag- 
gage-smashing fraternity over night. No other vessel 
would arrive for days, and but two solitary people to be 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 305 



taken to her. On the sura to be obtained for this service, 
forty or fifty adults and their respective families must be 
supported for at least a week. There was a rushing to 
and fro when we appeared at the front door. Four stout 
fellows pulled back and forth at the ends of the carpet 
bag ; as many more contended for the possession of the 
package containing the shawls and umbrella. As for the 
trunk it was lost sight of in the vast concourse of raga- 
muffins who piled on and around it in their frantic efforts 
to get possession of this, the great prize article of plun- 
der. We got through the crowd and down to the beach. 
Scores of brawny fellows stood ready to carry us through 
the surf to as many different boats that lay eight feet 
from the shore. I had learned the habits and customs 
of Syrian boatmen pretty well, so I spoke to none, but 
got into the first boat without asking questions. Into 
this I insisted that all my baggage should be put, other- 
wise I would not leave the shore. The plan is to carry 
an article of some sort off in each boat, and to charge 
full prices for all. At last we got started, all the boats 
in Jaffa harbor lifting anchor and following us. It was 
like a regatta. The passage between the rocks is not too 
wide for one boat to get through comfortably, but as for 
two to pass abreast, the thing is impossible. At the nar- 
row entrance to the little harbor we were thrown into a 
line, our boat passing out ahead. From here to the 
steamer, a half mile, it was a pretty sharp pull, all trying 
to make her in time to get hold of the luggage and carry 
it up the ship's side. There was a strong swell around 
the ship, for she was anchored at sea in reality, there 
being no harbor for large vessels at Jaffa. All the boats 
drove head on to the. steamer's steps about the same mo- 
ment, and the frantic rush was resumed. , We got upon 
the steamer's deck in the best manner we could, and then 
waited till the energetic 'long-shoremen of Jaffa had 
settled the various questions of prize that naturally arose 



306 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



out of our capture, and until they had divided the plun- 
der and brought it upon the deck of the steamer. This 
done they marched aft to where I sat, in a compact body. 
I was glad that this meeting was upon the deck of a 
good ship, instead of upon the mainland and in some out- 
of-the-way place. I have seldom seen a harder-looking 
set of fellows in my travels. It looked like a Democratic 
convention, in committee of the whole, waiting on a can- 
didate to inform him of his nomination to an office. 
Each one of them swore by the beard of the Prophet 
that he, and he alone, had carried the bulk of my baggage, 
and that but for him I should have been robbed of all 
my goods. They all talked at the tops of their voices at 
one time, and all told the same story. There was not 
enough money in Syria to pay them according to their 
claims. But I had expected this and was prepared. I 
first satisfied myself that all my goods had come on 
board. Then I called the mate of the ship, a stout Ger- 
man who fully understood my friends by a long residence 
among them. " Here is my baggage," said I, " and some 
one of these fellows has brought it off from the convent. 
How much must I pay?" "Two florins," he answered 
promptly, " will be ample." " Here are six francs, 
French money, one more than you think right; pay 
them." He took it and gave it to the nearest fellow. 
Then calling a couple of sailors he ordered them in Arabic 
to clear the decks in double-quick. My friends knew 
their man, and they were going over the side about as 
soon as the words were out of his mouth. 

The coast of Syria from Jaffa to Bey rout is very even and 
free from jutting headlands and neighboring islands. The 
ship sails almost due north, and within a mile or two of the 
shore the whole distance. For fifty miles or more the land 
is low, the valley of the Sharon being spread out from 
the sea, with the distant mountains of Ephraim in the 
southeast. At one o'clock we passed within three-quarters 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



307 



of a mile of the ruins of Cesarea. Nothing can be more des- 
olate than this once busy mart of Syrian prosperitj^. The 
soil of Herod's capital has not been darkened by the shadow 
of a human inhabitant for a thousand years. A mournful 
and solitary silence reigns not only over it, but over the 
whole shore of the plain of Sharon. The ruins of the 
ancient port, with its vast moles and buttresses, and the 
fallen columns that once ornamented it, still project far 
into the open sea, while the roar of the waves dashing 
over the shell-covered rocks is the only sound that breaks 
the stillness of Cesarea by the sea-coast. The rise of this 
city, and its promotion to the rank of capital of Palestine, 
was exclusively the work of Herod the Great. A striking 
evidence of the decline of Judaism was the creation of 
this city to be the national capital. The ancient cities of 
Israel were all inland, so especially located as the secure 
seat of an exclusive and peculiar people holding to a 
singular faith. Herod's object was evidently to inau- 
gurate a new system, commercial in character, and to 
form a closer acquaintance with the Western nations. 
Cesarea was the scene of many important events in the 
foundation of the early church. Philip, after baptizing 
the Ethiopian Eunuch on his way to Gaza, " was found 
at Ashdod ; and passing through, he preached in all the 
cities till he came to Cesarea," and there remained with 
his four daughters engnged in the work. Peter came 
down from the mountains to the saints which dwelt in 
Lydda, and "Saron saw him and turned to the Lord." 
Thence he went to Joppa, where he saw the vision which 
led him to open the gates of the church to the Gentiles. 
He set out from Joppa with a " devout soldier " and the 
servants of Cornelius, and came along the shore to Cesarea, 
where he baptized the Roman Centurion, the first Gentile 
convert. It was to this place also that Paul was brought 
a prisoner from Jerusalem. It was in a palace of Cesarea 
that he preached of righteousness, temperance, and judg- 



308 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



ment to come, and made Felix tremble. It was here that 
he forced King Agrippa to exclaim, "Almost thou per- 
suadest me to be a Christian ;" and it was from this same 
harbor, now in ruins, and into which no ship has sailed 
for a thousand years, that he set out on his eventful jour- 
ney to Rome. Here it was that another wonderful 
episode in sacred history took place. Herod, the grandson 
of its founder, and probably even more cruel than the 
murderer of the first-born of Israel, after having massacred 
James, and attempted the life of Peter, came down to Ces- 
area upon a festival day, attired in his most gorgeous robes. 
Entering the theater, he took his place upon the throne. 
The theater was open above, like all of that time, and it 
being early in the day the morning sun blazed down upon 
the gold and precious stones that adorned the king's 
person ; and the eyes of the people were dazzled with the 
richness of his apparel. He made an oration to them, and 
they cried out : " It is the voice of a god, and not of a man !" 
" And immediately the angel of the Lord smote him, be- 
cause he gave not God the glory, and he was eaten of 
worms and gave up the ghost." In the way of notable 
and worthy men, Cesarea is not without her share. Here 
Eusebius, the father of Ecclesiastical History, was born, 
and here he spent nearly the whole of his life. And here, 
too, Procopius, the historian, was born in the beginning 
of the sixth century. 

The valley of the Sharon ends within a few miles north 
of Cesarea, and the hills that lie about the base of Mount 
Carmel extend quite down to the sea. The range or 
mountain spur, of which Carmel is the end, extends 
northwesterly from Samaria, overlooking the valley of 
Esdraelon upon one side and the plain of Sharon upon 
the other, until it terminates in a lofty promontory jutting 
out into the sea. This is Mount Carmel, and high upon 
the western declivity of this ridge stands the convent of 
the Carmelite friars. It is a landmark that may be seen 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



309 



up and down the coast for many leagues. Built of white 
stones, and with a handsome cupola springing out of the 
center, Carmel itself can not be seen at a much greater 
distance than the substantial residence of the monks that 
dwell on its rugged sides. 

It was upon Carmel that the prophet Elijah lived and 
worked the miracles related of him in holy writ. Near 
to the convent is still shown the spot where was held the 
great contest between the prophet of the living God, and 
the eight hundred and fifty priests of Baal. And in the 
vale below, after the false prophets had from morning till 
noon, and from noon till the time of the evening sacrifice, 
implored their gods in vain to assist them, they were 
here conducted to the torrent of Kishon by the triumphant 
Elijah and slaughtered. From the slaughter the prophet 
and the king again returned to the brow of Carmel, the 
former to pray for rain, the latter to join in the sacrificial 
feast. And again was the power of the Almighty shown 
through the instrumentality of Elijah, for after sending 
his servant seven times to the summit to look for the 
coming rain, he returned with the intelligence that he 
saw " the little clouds rising out of the sea." And from 
this commanding height Elisha saw the Shunammite afar 
off urging her ass over the plain. He sent his servant to 
meet her, but she took little notice of him and pressed up 
the hill to " the man of God." Dismounting hastily, she 
threw herself upon the ground and caught him by the 
feet. It is the custom to do so to-day in Syria. Elisha, 
on hearing her sad tidings, sent away Gehazi with his 
staff to lay on the dead child. But the mother was not 
to be put off thus : " As the lord liveth and as thy soul 
liveth, I will not leave thee. And he arose and followed 
her." 

Formed by the promontory of Carmel and the foot-hills 
of the Lebanon range is the bay of Akka or Acre ; aud 
iuto this we steamed at one o'clock, dropping anchor in 



310 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



the port, called by the English Akka, and by the French 
St. Jean d'Acre. To the southeast the valley of Esdraelon 
spreads away for twenty miles, till cut off by the tower- 
ing hills of Nazareth. But these mountains, as well as 
the lofty promontory of Carmel, are dwarfed into nothing- 
ness when we turned toward the north side of the bay 
of Acre — for here we get the first glimpse of snow-clad 
Hermon, the last of the anti-Lebanon range, and the 
tallest peak in Syria. The bay of Acre is the best and 
almost the only harbor between Alexandria and Beyrout. 
There is no such thing as a wharf, and we had to get 
on shore the best we could, by means of the boats rowed 
by just such rascally fellows as infest the harbor of Jaffa. 
In fact it is the same in them all from Alexandria to Con- 
stantinople. Acre is built upon a triangular tongue of 
land which projects into the bay from the northeast. It 
is one of the strongest places in the East, and may be 
called a complete fortress in the sea. From the point of 
the tongue upon which the town is built, the ruins of an 
ancient mole extends eastward, and incloses a little harbor 
barely large enough to hold a few small boats, and this 
almost filled up with sand. Massive fortifications protect 
the place upon the side next the sea, while on the land 
side there is a strong rampart and deep fosse. It was at 
Acre that Sir Sidney Smith, in 1799, made his stand and 
rolled back the advancing columns of Napoleon, dashing 
to the earth forever his hopes of building up an Eastern 
empire. But when the rugged nature of this country is 
considered, taken in consideration with the really strong 
character of the defenses of the place, while it must 
always be ranked as a gallant action, it can scarcely be 
considered a wonderful one. No place in all Palestine, 
during the Crusades, was more notable for deeds of dar- 
ing than Acre. After its capture by Baldwin II., in 1103, 
it soon became the great seaport and place of rendezvous 
for Crusaders coming into the country. The fleets of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



311 



those merchant princes, the Venetians, the Genoese, and 
the Pisans, sailed into the bay of Acre, crowded with 
pilgrim Crusaders, and laden with arms, munitions, and 
warlike stores. And when misfortunes gathered around 
the armies of the cross, it was to Acre they fled for 
safety. It was taken by Saladin in 1187 ; but four years 
after, three kings — Guido of Jerusalem, Philip of Franco, 
and Richard of England — gathered in siege around its 
walls and won it back to Christendom. In 1229, it was 
the chief city of the kingdom of Jerusalem, then waning 
in power, and here the three great orders had their head- 
quarters. But this kingdom, founded in the East at the 
expense of so much blood and treasure, at last sank away 
from the governments of the earth. After a siege of 
thirty-three days the Moslems forced the walls, and death 
or slavery was the lot of sixty thousand Christians. Of 
five hundred Knight -Templars, ten alone lived to tell the 
tale. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



FROM BEYEOUT TO DEMITEI CAEA's HOTEL. 

It was eight o'clock in the morning when I went upon 
deck. The ship lay at anchor in a spacious bay with but 
one side open to the sea. Above our heads towered a 
lofty mountain, its snow-clad peak glistening under the 
rays of a bright morning sun, while the valley at its base, 
extending from the water's edge, was green w r ith growing 
grain, and ornate with groves of tall cypress and graceful 
date-palms. Turning to the opposite side of the harbor, 
there lay, among the green gardens and against the hill 
side, the white walls, the mediaeval towers, and the scat- 
tered villas of a half European, half Syrian city. The 
snow-clad mountain was Lebanon, the bay that of St. 
George, and the city the Berytus of the ancients, the 
modern Syrian commercial metropolis, Beyrout. Twenty 
shore-going boats had already made fast to every possible 
part of the ship by which they could hold on, while as 
many more lay bobbing up and down upon the water 
within speaking distance, and all filled with turban- 
covered boatmen, clamoring in some modern or ancient 
language for business in conveying passengers on shore. 

A peculiar weakness of the human family is that of 
language. In a foreign country no traveler ever thinks 
of speaking a word of his own tongue when he can avoid 
it. But if he knows so much as one word of some other, 
that he will use upon all occasions. Responsive to this 
known peculiarity, the boatmen, mukarahs, and camel- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



313 



drivers of the East bawl to you in such words of un- 
known tongue as they may have picked up, feeling that 
if they do not understand it, possibly the hoivadji may. 
The American invariably speaks French to all nations 
with whom he comes in contact, unless he knows a little 
Italian or German, and in that case mixes the whole 
together, and uses it indiscriminately. The Frenchman 
standing by his side, at the same moment, will, perhaps, be 
mingling the few words of Spanish which he knew when 
he started on his voyage, with the English he has learned 
the day before, and try them upon the same Arab or 
Copt to whom his American friend is speaking in French. 
The traveler's logic seems to run thus : All men speak 
some language. If they do not speak my language, they 
must speak a foreign language. This Arab or Egyptian 
does not understand me. I must, therefore, address him 
in a foreign language. Having established this irresistible 
proposition, he speaks to the fellow in French, and won- 
ders why he is so stupid as not to understand it. And so 
fifty tongues were being shouted at us by as many boat- 
men, each fellow taking care to speak in some tongue 
unintelligible to himself. 

At last, a tall fellow with bag trousers and fez cap in- 
troduced himself as Andre, a Christian and a Greek. 
Giving us his card, in which he evidently took great 
pride, he stood back and permitted us to read that elegant 
specimen of the typographer's art. It set forth in toler- 
able good English, that the Oriental Hotel, of which the 
said Andre, Greek and Christian, was the proprietor, was 
an elegant establishment within the walls of Beyrout, that 
it commanded a fine view of Mount Lebanon, and was 
free from bed-bugs. I asked him the price of board and 
lodging per day. It was, he said, sixty piasters a day, 
but just for the moment there -was no one in his house, 
and he was willing to make a reduction. He would, 
under the circumstances, let me have the best room in it 
14 



314 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



at forty-five piasters, but it would be upon condition that 
I would keep the price a profound secret ; that there was 
a considerable party of Americans on their way from 
Jerusalem, as he had been informed, and that as soon as 
they should arrive he intended to exact the full sum of 
sixty piasters per day. This is the custom all through 
the East. The merchant, the hotel-keeper, and the 
mechanic never have any fixed, prices. They make a 
separate contract with each guest or customer, and think 
nothing of it. It is among themselves considered per- 
fectly fair to get all they can ; but they soon find, in deal- 
ing with Europeans or Americans, that this is not con- 
sidered right, so when they make a trade with one guest 
or customer, whether for a high or low price, it is always 
under the seal of secrecy. 

Our baggage was soon safely stowed in Andre's boat, 
and. we pulling in for the custom-house. Two huge 
square towers appear to defend the entrance to Beyrout, 
but a closer examination shows the idea of their strength 
to be delusive. Riddled with shot-holes, and ready to 
tumble down, they appear to be more dangerous to the 
orderly citizens who may pass by them than they could be 
to any foreign foe. It appears that Ibrahim Pasha held 
Beyrout in 1 840, in the memorable campaign in which he 
came near overthrowing the Sultan's power, and placing 
his family upon the throne of Othman. But the English, 
who were hostile to his purpose, came into St. George's 
Bay, and shelled him out of his stronghold, giving such 
a blow to his cause as to destroy it, and infiicting irrepa- 
rable ruin upon the defenses of the town. But the injury 
to the commercial interests was but momentary. It 
speedily recovered, and is now more prosperous than at 
any time before, either ancient or modern. 

The custom-house at Beyrout is a mere open shed front- 
ing upon the water. The tides in the Mediterranean being 
so inconsiderable, houses may be built quite up to the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



315 



water's edge, so that one may step out of a boat upon the 
stone floor. In dealing with Oriental custom-houses it is 
always an advantage to travel in as numerous a company 
as possible. You must bribe them or have your goods 
roughly handled. They must obtain a certain sum to 
satisfy their daily necessities, and this they will have 
whether the party be large or small. But in an import- 
ant commercial town like Beyrout, where are many 
Frankish merchants, you can not make a bargain with 
them openly ; but some little semblance of secrecy must 
be kept up with respect to the nefarious transaction. In 
Jaffa, when I embarked, the custom-house officer stopped 
me, in the presence of at least fifty people, and stated that 
for five piasters my baggage could pass without being 
opened. This I paid without hesitation. But in Beyrout 
the fellow made no demand, and called for my keys. 
Knowing that I had nothing either contraband or duti- 
able, I determined to let him open the trunks and keep 
my money. So I handed him the keys. He hesitated 
and looked hard at me to see if I would take the hint, 
but I looked defiantly and told him to blaze away. He 
went in with a will, and soon had all my goods out upon 
the floor. But in vain ; every thing was all right. He 
put them back and then demanded my passport. I gave 
it to him. He looked at it, and said that he would take 
it to the pasha's office, to see if it w x as in due form. I 
saw through the trick, and said, ' 4 All right ; take it 
where you please," and followed Andre to the Oriental 
Hotel. The first thing I did after getting there was to 
hurry off to the American consul to make a complaint, 
but the fellow had been quicker than I was, and I found 
the passport there ready for me when I arrived. One of 
Andre's servants were waiting for us at the custom-house, 
and upon his back all our baggage — trunk, carpet-bag, 
and shawls — was loaded, and he inarched away ahead of 
us, to the hotel. 



316 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



Although Beyrout is a thriving commercial town, it 
has not yet learned the advantages of the carrying of bur- 
dens upon wheels. All the baggage of travelers ; all the 
goods of merchants, exported and imported ; all the silks, 
raw and manufactured, which gives the place its import- 
ance ; all the cotton and wool, the dates and the oranges, 
the flour and grain, the iron, steel, and coal, that goes out 
or comes into Beyrout, is borne from the sea to the houses 
upon the backs of camels. A wagon or cart is almost, 
though not quite, as novel an engine in Beyrout, as in 
Jerusalem or Jaffa. Such a thing may be seen here, but 
so seldom as not to enter into the economy of the place 
or its business. There is but one street in the town 
wide enough to admit of a wagon to pass ; and until this 
difficulty is remedied, man and beast in the primitive and 
natural way, must be the common carriers. Beyrout has 
a population of about sixty thousand souls. The first 
town in Syria for commerce, it is but the third in point 
of size, Damascus and Aleppo both out-ranking it in this 
respect. But the constant increase which has been going 
on here for twenty years past, must soon place it the first, 
not only in importance, but in numbers. Its chief article 
of export is raw silk. The whole Lebanon country is be- 
coming a mulberry grove. As yet the greater portion 
of the silk is sent out of the country in an unmanufactured 
condition, but quite a number of looms are being put up 
in little houses along the brow of the hill back of the 
town, and this branch of industry will no doubt soon 
help to give importance to Beyrout. 

I found the American consul, Mr. Johnson, trimming 
a lemon-tree in the garden upon which his house fronts. 
Americans are not so plenty yet in the East as to with- 
draw from them the usual courtesy to strangers as is the 
case in some parts of Europe. He was evidently glad to 
see any thing in the shape of a countryman, and as he 
proved to be a gentleman of more than usual kindness of 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



317 



manner, as well as cultivation and personal dignity, he 
soon made me as welcome to his house as my unexpected 
appearance had been to him. He has been American 
consul at Beyrout for ten years past, a thing so strange 
in American political affairs that I was forced to the notion 
that the office is not worth intriguing for. But the dis- 
trict over which he exercises general control is extensive, 
and at times must require no little diplomatic skill to 
properly superintend it. He mentioned to me in conver- 
sation that Bagdad was in his district. " Bagdad," said 
I ; " how many Americans may there be in Bagdad ? I 
would like to know." " Only one," he answered. " But 
he has been there for several years past. He writes me 
about two letters a year, just to inform me in an official 
way, that he is there upholding the dignity and claiming 
the protection of the Stars and Stripes." I had been 
traveling a good while, entertaining all the time a faint 
hope of reaching a place where I should be the only 
American. But this was a settler in that direction. 

" In the name of common sense," said I, " tell me what 
this American is doing in Bagdad." "He is taking 
photographs, I believe," said Mr. Johnson. Just think of 
it — an American photographist with his cameras and 
chemicals, his negatives and positives, his plates, cards, 
emory-rubbers, and apparatus generally, scampering 
about the narrow lanes and blind alleys where Haroun 
al Raschid and Mustapha have so often lurked in disguise, 
where Sinbad told his stories, and where the three 
Calenders met with their strange adventures. I wonder 
if he has taken a view of Aladdin's palace ? Does the 
beautiful princess of Persia sit to him ? and does Queen 
Gulnare take best in profile or full face? It would be in- 
teresting to know, for " the apparatus can't lie." I know 
the fellow without even having seen him, or heard more 
than Mr. Johnson told me ; and if I ever go to Bagdad I 
shall be able to pick this photographer out of any crowd 



318 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



in which I may find him. He is five feet eight inches 
high, spare made, with light whiskers and blue eyes. 
He was born and brought up in Massachusetts, and took 
up the photographers' art of his own accord. If there 
be more piasters and paras in Bagdad than is absolutely 
necessary for the business purposes of the place, he will 
one day bring them back to New England. If there are 
not, he will have lived upon the best, and will have 
photogrnphed Haroun and Mustapha, as well as Sinbad 
and the barber who was supposed to have died with the 
fish-bone in his throat, Aladdin and Ali Baba, if they be 
still in Bagdad, and will be selling them some day in 
Boston. 

American influence in certain directions has been very 
considerable in this part of Syria It is here that the 
members of the great New York metal house — Phelps, 
Dodge & Co. — have distinguished themselves in the 
philanthropic work of educating the people. Each 
member of the firm has at one time or another made do- 
nations amounting in the aggregate to fifty thousand or 
perhaps one hundred thousand dollars. And here one or 
another of them is generally to be found overlooking the 
work. Just at this time it is Mr. Dodge and family who 
are spending a half year in Beyrout. The American 
Missionary Society established a branch here thirty-five 
years ago, and the result of their efforts is already show- 
ing itself, or at least so I am told. I met with several 
graduates of the American Mission School, who having 
completed their education, were engaged in the useful vo- 
cation of dragomans. My experience has been, however, 
that these fellows, like every thing American, beat all 
creation, for they are by all odds sharper than any other 
dragomans in the East. In time those educated at the 
schools can be depended upon to continue the work, and 
then the good will more plainly show itself. The 
American Missions established throughout the East are 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



319 



carried on upon a more thorough and comprehensive 
plan than even those of the English, and their operations 
have been not only beneficial to the cause of civilization, 
but highly creditable to the American name. And it is 
only now that they have become fully established and in 
working order. No other nations have made any effort in 
this direction. In ancient times Berytus was famed for 
its schools. Students came to it from the most distant 
countries. Philosophy and the languages were taught. 
But it was as a school of the civil law that it was especi- 
ally pre-eminent. May not the effects of these benevolent 
men from the West restore to Beyrout the position she 
once held in the East ? If so let them have all the credit 
due to so noble an achievement. 

For several years a eompany of French capitalists have 
been laboring in the mountains of Lebanon in the con- 
struction of a macadamized road from Beyrout to Da- 
mascus. A good wagon road in any part of Syria is as 
much an advance upon the mountain trails over which 
the camels and asses of Syrian commerce make their 
tedious way, as is the Pacific Railroad over the Sierra 
Nevada an improvement upon the worst mountain cart- 
way, in California, which has its terminus at a shingle 
machine. It is doubtful which, in the eyes of the rude 
nations of the country through which we passed, was the 
most wonderful thing in connection with this work — the 
road itself or the uses to which it was to be put ; the 
continuous hard, white, and level surface, winding like a 
serpent through marsh and over mountain, from one side 
of the land to the other, or the queer houses upon wheels 
that rolled and rattled along, keeping up with the horses 
that appeared to fly before them as if vainly endeavoring 
to escape. Fortunately for us the road had been recently 
finished, and we were spared the toilsome journey of five 
days, on horseback, over the mountains and through the 
snows that lie between Beyrout and Damascus. The trip 



320 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



is made in about fifteen hours, and the conveyance, a dili- 
gence, drawn by ten horses. Taking the precaution one 
day in advance to secure the three coupe seats, in order 
to avoid, as much as possible, immediate contact with 
Arab travelers, we prepared to start, according to sched- 
ule, at three o'clock in the morning. Andre promised to 
call us at two. I had engaged the only carriage in town — 
a sort of cab found at the stage office — to call for us at 
half-past that hour. Feeling that all had been done that 
prudence required, we retired early, as we fondly hoped, 
in the words of Richard Swiveller, Esq., "to court a few 
hours of the balmy." 

In 1860 or 1861, either by accident or design, there 
occurred at Damascus and throughout the Lebanon couu- 
try what the Christians call a premeditated attempt to 
massacre the whole of the Christian portion of the com- 
munity. The Mohammedan authorities, on the other 
hand, claim it to have been one of those outbreaks so 
natural in all countries where distinct castes or religion 
are kept up, and that nobody was to blame except the 
Christians themselves in refusing to believe in the Proph- 
et of God. The poor Christians, however, have in sup- 
port of their view of the case the substantial fact that 
during the riot no less than five thousand of their people 
of all ages and sexes were indiscriminately butchered in 
cold blood. So terrible a shock as this to the peace of 
a community could scarcely be recovered from in a cen- 
tury, much less five years. The consequence is that both 
sides may be said to sleep upon their arms. People who 
remember seeing their brothers, sisters, and children flying 
from the furious demons of Mohammed, or their bodies 
cold in death — themselves hiding in holes and caverns for 
safety from the same cruel enemy — can scarcely be ex- 
pected to feel wholly at ease within five years, especially 
when they meet the identical murderers at every street 
corner as they walk out, or in every mountain pass as they 



SKETCHES OF TEA V EL. 



321 



travel. The fires of the Lebanon civil war, if the massacre 
of the weak by the strong maybe dignified by that name, 
still slumber ready to break forth at any moment. The 
conduct of France upon that occasion, was so decisive, 
that it convinced the Porte, and probably the Moslem pop- 
ulation of Damascus, and the Pashalic of Lebanon, that 
the murder of Christian men, women, and children by 
their own firesides and the burning of their houses over 
their heads, though a great luxury, was, upon the whole, 
rather too expensive an amusement. 

Since that time a numerous night police has patrolled 
the towns, both of Beyrout and Damascus, and it was to 
one of these fellows we owed the loss of sleep on the 
night before our journey. The night was cold, and he 
had found a corner or deep door, in which he could sit 
and be partially protected from the night air. This retreat 
unfortunately, was directly under our window. The fel- 
low evidently had the faculty of sleeping by short naps, 
at the end of which he would wake with a start and yell 
out, at the top of his voice au Arabic formula, which when 
translated was to the effect that "God is great!" that he, 
the watchman, was wide awake, and the Christians on his 
beat were quiet. This done he would turn around to a 
more comfortable position and again go to sleep. But 
his shout would always have the effect to start another 
fellow just down the street under a staircase, who would, 
with equally sonorous voice, express similar opinions with 
respect to the attributes of the Deity, and accord with 
his comrade upon the peaceful attitude of the Christian 
population. Like the crowing of cocks at midnight, this 
cry would be caught up and echoed and re-echoed from 
one end of Beyrout to the other, now dying away around 
the point of the hill, now coming up fresh from the other 
end of the city. This occurred all night at intervals of 
fifteen or twenty minutes, so that I was heartily glad 
when I heard the footsteps of Andre clattering across the 

14* 



322 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



stone floor to tell us it was time to get up. By the time 
we were dressed we heard the rattling of our cab over 
the rough pavement as it started from the stable, and 
growing louder and louder, till, after turning and twisting 
among narrow alleys — never intended for conveyances 
wider in the gauge than a donkey — coming in our direc- 
tion for a time, then getting farther away, with the twists 
in the street, till at last, it was called to a halt in. front of 
our door. This awoke our trusty sentinel, who, after 
again expressing his opinion upon the subject of the 
Creator of all things, approached the cab and interrogated 
the driver, with the view of ascertaining if this night 
excursion was not some fresh conspiracy on the part of 
malignant Christians to get themselves massacred by the 
true believers. Having satisfied himself upon this point 
he reported to the fellow under the staircase the condition 
of the public peace, and again resumed his post and 
slumbers in the door beneath our late window. 

But neither his sentiments nor fears troubled us any 
more that night, and we were soon set down at the door 
of the diligence office. Being the only Franks who were 
to go to Damascus, and, having taken the whole coupe 
to ourselves, we were treated with corresponding consid- 
eration. A crowd of Arabs and Damascenes stood about 
in the dark, outside the door, waiting for the stage to get 
ready. We were invited to enter the office and to take 
seats. Coffee, that inevitable incident to Oriental polite- 
ness, was brought in, and we were treated to small cups 
of that beverage. The horses having been put to the 
stage, we were shown through a private door and into 
our places before the other passengers, and when all was 
snug, the gate was thrown open and we felt and heard 
the bare-legged fellows scrambling about over and 
through the vehicle in search of places. Then after a 
great deal of shouting in Arabic, the diligence started. 

Beyrout is situated upon a long tongue of land jutting 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 323 



out into the sea from the base of Mount Lebanon. A 
half hour of brisk trotting brought us to the ascent. 
It was then about four o'clock in the morning. From 
that hour till nine o'clock, stopping only to change the 
tired horses, we were making our slow and difficult way 
to the summit. It was quite warm when we left the 
gardens about Beyrout, and the air fragrant with peach 
and orange blossoms. But long before daylight we had 
entered the region of snow, and the wheels were crunch- 
ing through the cake ice which had formed in the road. 
From the summit the road immediately runs down the 
opposite side, and in one hour and a half we were in the 
wide and beautiful valley of the Litany — the Leontes of 
the ancients. Here, at an Arab khan by the road-side, 
we stopped to change horses and to breakfast. 

The road from Beyrout to Damascus is wholly without 
Palestine proper, but passes within a few miles of its 
extremest northern point. The possessions of Asher, 
reached the south side of Lebanon, while those of Naph- 
tali and Dan ended with Hermon, a point parallel with 
them but more inland. The beautiful valley of Ccele-Syria, 
lies between the Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon ranges. No 
finer climate, no richer soil, no more prosperous peasantry 
can be found in all the East than rest upon, make pro- 
ductive, and enjoy the vale watered by the Leontes of 
classic story. On the west rises cedar-crested Lebanon, 
overlooking Ccele-Syria and the great sea, while on the 
east and south lofty Hermon, with his mantle of snow, 
joins in shutting out from the world this image of the 
happy valley of Rasselas. From the mountain side the 
pure waters of the Litany, like a silver thread, can be 
traced almost from the columns of distant Heliopolis, 
winding along the center of the plain, and here at its 
banks I was tempted to drink of and lave my hands in 
the pure pebble-bottomed stream. How many strange 
religious ceremonies we e witnessed by the classic waters 



324 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



of Leontes almost "before the story of civilization had 
begun to be written ; how many queer scenes occurred 
upon its banks as its pure stream glided to the sea. 
Gushing from the earth almost beneath the shadows 
of the sun's temple at Baalbec, its waters were gathered 
up to be poured out in libations to all the gods of Greece 
and Egypt, of Assyria and Babylon. Then floating 
around the base of Lebanon, to behold for a time, side 
by side with sacred Jordan, the worship of the living 
God, first watering the flocks of Asher, then of Naphtali, 
they were tempted westward by the tears of the maid- 
ens of Phoenicia, shed over the untimely fate of Adonis, 
and, joining these, poured themselves together into the 
Great Sea. 

The ascent of the Anti-Lebanon, over which we pass to 
reach Damascus, is but little less tedious than that of the 
Lebanon. Three hours, however, brought us to the sum- 
mit. From here the country breaks off gradually into a 
table-land, high and desolate, the hills chalky, the valleys 
sterile and uncultivated. 

The road over which we passed had been in course of 
construction ten years, and at a cost of untold sums of 
money. There is no better road in the world. The bed 
is wide, smooth, and perfect; the bridges and culverts 
are of stone, and built in the most durable manner, and 
altogether it would be a credit to the oldest country in 
Europe. All this has been done by the stockholders with 
the hope of getting the whole or a part of the travel and 
carrying trade between the tw T o great cities of Beyrout 
and Damascus. But I fear they have not made a proper 
estimate of Oriental ignorance and prejudice. I watched 
carefully the whole day looking for one single native 
passenger on foot or mounted, to travel the road. But 
in vain ; I saw not one. The old mountain trail over 
which Abraham and Saul of Tarsus, Khaled, and Tamer- 
lane, the Scourge of God, had made their way to or Irom 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



325 



Damascus, lies parallel with the modern improvement. 
The wonder is, that the hardiest and most active moun- 
tain goat can safely traverse it from end to end. Yet 
there, within fifty feet of where the diligence thundered, 
along down the mountain sides, the horses at a run, we 
saw drove after drove of meek-looking camels, laden with 
the wares of the East or the manufactures of the West, 
picking their way over the stones as daintily and with as 
much stolid indifference to progress or improvement as 
they did in bringing up Abraham's household gear from 
the low lands of distant Mesopotamia four thousand 
years ago. The Bedouin driver would stare as the queer 
house on wheels rattled past, but I never saw a camel so 
much as look up from the next place he intended to set 
down his splay-foot, though I watched carefully for that 
purpose. I learned from persons about the office that the 
tariff had been purposely put to a mere nominal sum in 
order to induce the camel-drivers to use the road, but 
they would not hear to it. In fact, it is exceedingly 
doubtful if even a free road would induce them to quit 
the beaten stony path over which their fathers have 
passed for so many centuries. I do not think camels can 
have much hope of a good time in this life ; but their whole 
appearance suggests the idea that they live in the full 
faith of some great change for the better in a future state. 
Possibly they expect to turn the tables upon the camel- 
drivers, and ride about upon their masters' backs in 
another sphere, making them get up or lie down to take 
on or put off the burdens of celestial commerce. 

At four o'clock in the afternoon, passing around the 
base of a high hill, we suddenly found ourselves upon the 
banks of a rapid stream, the shores of which were lined 
with groves of tall and graceful poplars, of even age and 
size, growing in rows. It was the Barada, the stream 
which waters Damascus. Down the little river, passing 
all the time through a narrow and crooked mountain 



326 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



gorge, filled with groves of young poplars, we bowled 
along for another hour, and then found ourselves in the 
valley that incloses the city. The peach, the plum, and 
the apricot, all of Damascus, the Damascene rose, and 
Damascene oleander, the fig, the olive, the vine, and the 
myrtle, whose ancestral roofs had never been beyond the 
limits of this their own valley, were blooming all around 
us, and the air was'thick with their fragrance. The driver 
blew a blast upon his stage bugle, and the houses started 
into a long gallop. High walls inclosing rich gardens 
flew past us on the right and left, and tall houses, with 
closely latticed windows, came rapidly in view. Soon 
the graceful outlines of a mosque, and the tall shaft of a 
minaret were seen over the apricot and walnut trees. 
Then we rattled along the broad open bank of the river, 
where hundreds of people, in turbans of green and yellow, 
sat in groups of five or six upon low stools, smoking the 
gurgling nargileh, or, with faces toward Mecca, were 
prostrating themselves upon their mantles in prayer, for 
it was the time of the evening muezzin. Young sheiks 
in flowing robes, mounted upon graceful barbs, would 
draw their horses up by the road-side to look in wonder 
on the queer machine of the Franks, and when past, 
would join in a grand chase along the road in pursuit of 
the monster of Western ingenuity. As we passed, the 
nargileh stem would be removed from the mouth of the 
sitting smokers long enough to permit the escape of 
the usual Moslem exclamation attesting the greatness of 
God, and then replaced. But those engaged in prayer 
continued their pious duty to its close, nor did one 
indulge his curiosity so much as by stealing a look at the 
passing machine. Down the river bank and across a 
crazy, half-ruined bridge, the way lined with great 
crowds of loungers on low stools, the driver blowing his 
brass coach-horn cheerily all the while, till w T e reached 
the custom-house, a great open shed looking like a bar- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



327 



rack. Here we stopped. The driver put away his trum- 
pet, and jumping down from the box, opened our door 
first. A hundred or more pale, yellow-faced Syrians and 
Turks, with long light beards, green turbans, and bur- 
nooses, stood around gazing at us. 

I had been advised in advance to be sure and go to the 
hotel of Demitri Cara, and I had resolved to do so. 
The reasons operating upon my mind in arriving at this 
conclusion were such as 1 think throw no discredit upon 
my judgment in such matters. They were of a twofold 
character. First, I was assured that Demitri was a good 
fellow and kept a pretty fair house ; and second, that his 
was the only hotel in Damascus. I found by experience 
both statements to be correct. We had dismounted from 
the diligence at the invitation of the driver ; but what 
was I to do next was the question. I stood staring at 
this crowd, trying in vain to meet a friendly or apparently 
Christian face. I felt very much like a little boy who is 
lost, and who being surrounded by a crowd of inquiring 
strangers, is unable to recollect the number of his father's 
house. I was in a moment convinced of one fact — I was 
away from the land of the Frank. I was in the land of 
Islam, pure and undivided. My stove-pipe hat was as 
much a matter of curiosity to these fellows as were their 
burnooses and turbans to me. The prospect was pretty 
gloomy for a short time ; but to my great satisfaction a 
tall and dignified old fellow, with long beard and dressed 
in the richest Syrian costume, approached me with de- 
liberation. Bowing low, he said, in broken English, 
"You go to hotel?" I answered, "Yes, such is my in- 
tention;" adding mentally, "if I can only find it to go 
to." " To whose hotel you go ?" he continued, meaning 
to give me full time for reflection, and showing at the 
same time a high-toned determination not to take any 
unfair advantage of his competitors in the hotel business. 
"I go," said I, "to Demitii's Hotel." "Very well, 



323 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



saire; I am Demitri.'' I shook Demitri by the hand with 
more cordiality than may be easily described. I was 
glad to see Demitri. I looked upon Demitri as the best 
friend I had in the world just at that time. And the 
more I think of it the more convinced I am that I did not 
over-estimnte the importance of the position of that re- 
spectable landlord and his house toward me and mine. 

I fear the traveling public generally are too apt to 
think that the obligation in the relationship of innkeeper 
and guest rest wholly upon the former, and that the 
traveler who puts up at his house owes no thanks. To 
those who think so, I say, come to Damascus, and, getting 
down from the stage, look about for the one hotel of 
Demitri and reflect upon what would be your condition, 
not if Demitri had no inn there, for that is too much, but 
what would be your state if that honest old fellow had 
for that single evening neglected to come down to meet 
the diligence ? He came the night we reached Damascus, 
but only a day or two after he was stricken down with 
the gout (honest and genuine gout, bred at his own table 
and in his own inn) and could not go. But, with real 
Christian charity, he got me to go down and conduct to 
the inn all wayfarers coming that way — that is, all who 
upon being questioned declared themselves to be in 
search of Demitri Cara's Hotel. I felt like an honest St. 
Bernard dog, with a strap about his neck, searching for 
lost travelers in the snow. None came ; but my mission 
was one of no ordinary benevolence, nevertheless, and 
was suggested by old Demitri from pure goodness ; for in 
the end they must all find their way, by some means or 
another, to his, in Damascus, only and sole establishment 
for the entertainment of Christians, man or beast. 

A rascally-looking fellow had already seized one trunk 
and was evidently making his calculations for getting 
backshish. But old Demitri waved his hand majestically 
to him to put the trunk upon the back of his boy. On 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



329 



this beast of burden they loaded the carpet bags, and 
shawls, and finally a lady's side-saddle, which we had 
brought all through the country. This done, he bade 
the boy to go on to the house, and we followed the 
worthy landlord. Again we crossed the river, and were 
among the covered alleys and narrow lanes of an Oriental 
city. But this time a troop of idlers followed us. My 
hat, my wife's unveiled face, these were the wonders 
which dragged after us, quite to Demitri's door, a 
hundred boys and loungers about the street. "The 
house is at your service," said Demitri, when we got into 
the court-yard. " I expect people over from Jerusalem 
in a week, but we are now empty. Take seats on the 
divan until I can prepare you a room." 

Like all Oriental houses this was built with a great 
central court-yard, around which all the doors and win- 
dows fronted. In the street was only a dead wall, with 
one low ironed and barred door. A fountain played in 
the center, with hundreds of gold and silver fish disport- 
ing in its waters. Orange and lemon, citron and fig trees 
shaded the central pavement as well as ornamented its 
walls. All the lower story of the house opened upon 
this court and was used for sitting and lounging in. 
Each of these lower rooms has a fountain. The sleeping 
apartments are all above and front upon a veranda. 

Demitri Cara's Hotel is one of the best buildings in 
Damascus. It was built some thirty ago by Aly Agha 
for a private residence. This Aly Agha was Secretary of 
the Treasury to Ibraham Pasha during his conquest and 
dominion in Syria, and was, besides, one of the stanchest 
friends of the Egyptian general ; but being suspected of 
either attempting or desiring to open up a correspondence 
with the Sultan, Ibraham, with the same energy and 
promptness which had enabled him to scale the lofty sides 
of Lebanon, sent one morning a guard to this house and 
frustrated not only Aly Agha's design of correspond- 



330 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



ing with the Porte, but one which if less dangerous was 
certainly more imminent, that of eating his breakfast. 
This he did by taking off his head at the fountain in the 
great court-yard of his mansion. The house was not 
confiscated, but came to the ownership of his daughter, 
from whom Demitri bought it ; but being a Christian, the 
title is held by his wife. It is a law of the Turkish 
empire that foreigners can hold no estate in lands, but 
women are supposed to have no nationality save that of 
the country in which they reside for the time. All 
women in the Sultan's dominions are by this rule subjects 
of the Sultan. The wives of foreigners therefore may, 
under this legal fiction, hold lands. The great central 
court shaded with orange and lemon trees, the large foun- 
tain in the center filled with gold and silver fish, in the 
hotel of Demitri Cara, all is for the dweller within. To 
the outside world the dead wall, without windows and 
with but one heavy iron door, might inclose a prison, a 
mad-house, or a hospital for lepers. The Mussulman 
builds his mansion for his own gratification, and not to 
impress his neighbors with a notion of his wealth or 
grandeur. 



CHAPTER XXX. 



DAMASCUS THE HOLY. 



There are certain points on the globe so admirably 
adapted for the building of cities, that when once located 
no changes in the customs of men, no revolution of gov- 
ernments or shocks of war, or visitations of famine or 
pestilence, can cause them to be abandoned. Such, in the 
New World, are probably New York, New Orleans, and 
San Francisco. In the older hemisphere, Rome, Con- 
stantinople, Cadiz, Alexandria, and perhaps London, are 
similarly situated. In the East, Damascus, after having 
undergone vicissitudes as destructive as those which have 
swept, clean as the thrashing-floor, the sites of Carthage 
and Ephesus, of Memphis and of Babylon, is as prosper- 
ous and looks as youthful as she did the day when the 
engineers of Uz, the son of Aram, the son of Noah, 
dragged their chains along her contemplated thorough- 
fares and drove their pointed stakes at her street corners. 
How often since that day her strong walls have been 
thrown prostrate with the dust, her dwellings given to 
the flames, her people butchered at their own hearth- 
stones, or dragged weeping into hopeless captivity, it 
would be impossible to enumerate. For here has been 
the valiant son of Jesse, with his left-handed slingers, and 
Pompey the Great with the terrible Roman sword. And 
Khaled, the Sword of God, and Abu Obeidah, tendering 
the Koran or death ; and, again, the architect of the 
tower of seventy thousand skulls, Timour, with his wild 



332 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



Tartars, shrieking indiscriminate death, plunder, and des- 
olation. Yet she survives. The plum of Damascus still 
blossoms in her fragrant gardens. The sweet perfumes 
of her own rose mingle with the odors of her oleanders. 
The orange and the almond, the fig and the jasmine, still 
moisten their leaves in the sparkling fountains fed by the 
waters of the Abana. While the bright-eyed damsels of 
the East stroll through halls whose marble floors, mosaic 
w T alls, and arabesque ceilings rival the most gorgeous story 
of the Arabian Nights, in her bazaars Damascus blades, 
gold-embroidered robes and jeweled daggers glitter amid 
piles of Eastern silks and shawls of Persia and Cashmere. 

All Christian writers concede Damascus to be the old- 
est city in the world. Its history reaches almost back to 
the cloudy skies that lowered over the deluge. Founded, 
by Aram, one of the immediate descendants of Noah, the 
name by which the surrounding country is known in the 
Old Testament is Aram-Damesk. Situated in the direct 
path of Mesopotamia, the cradle of the human race, across 
the desert to Syria, it is natural that the first wanderers 
from that land, after the dispersion at Babel, should find 
themselves upon the banks of the Abana. And here the 
young sheik, Abraham, must have paused in his jour- 
ney westward, at least long enough to know the country 
and its people, for one Eliezer of Damascus was the stew- 
ard, and until the birth of Ishmael, or perhaps Isaac, was 
his heir presumptive. Damascus reached great power 
under the reign of the Hadads, and threatened even the 
warlike tribes of Israel. But David chastised them with 
great severity when they came to succor Hadadezer, king 
of Zobah, for he slew of them two and twenty thousand, 
and put garrisons into this same city, " Syria of Damas- 
cus," and the people " became his servants and brought 
gifts." 

It was during this stormy period that in a flying expe- 
dition of the Damascenes into Palestine, a little Jewish 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



333 



maiden was taken captive. By the chances of war she be- 
came the " chattel" of a great Syrian man of war, Naaman. 
She was placed in his harem, and became a maid-servant 
to his wife. Naaman was a leper, and the little captive 
found time in the interval of her own grief to feel for the 
woes of her master. The gentle nature of woman is the 
same in all time. " Would God my lord were with the 
prophet that is in Samaria," she said, "for he would 
recover him of his leprosy." The speech was conveyed 
to the afflicted general and gave him life. He set out for 
Samaria, armed with a letter from the king, his master. 
The story is well known. He reached the prophet Eli- 
sha, who possessed no remedy save that of washing in 
that same Jordan down whose banks the sick man had 
journeyed from the day of his departure from his own 
land. Then the haughty soldier, enraged at the slight 
the prophet seemed to be putting upon him, said: " Are 
not Abana and Pharphar, rivers of Damascus, better than 
all the waters of Israel ? May I not wash in them and be 
clean ?" But he was prevailed upon to try the remedy ; 
was led into the Jordan, and was healed. The magic lay 
not in the waters; for the sweet stream that babbles over 
the stones and spurts in the fountains of Damascus may 
well scorn a competition with the yellow flood which 
finds rest in the bitter and acrid gulf covering the cities 
of the plain. Outside the east gate at this day is shown 
the house of Naaman, the leper. It is used as the only 
hospital in the city for those suffering with the Syrian 
general's malady. Of course the tradition has been in- 
vented to suit the house, but it is, nevertheless, pleasant 
to find an old story thus clinging to any old city. 

The history of Damascus, its changes of dynasty, its 
revolutions at home, its conquests from abroad, are re- 
corded in sacred Scripture step by step, with that of 
Jerusalem, until near the time it was seized and made a 
Roman province. The pliant consciences of the Damas- 



334 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



cenes were easily made to take the Christian groove. Its 
metropolitan nppeared at the Nicene Council with seven 
suffragans. The great temple was dedicated to the 
dominant faith, under the special patronage of St. John 
the Baptist, and for three hundred years Christianity 
flourished at Damascus as thrifty as at Rome, Antioch, 
or Alexandria. But the advancing wave of Islam rolled 
in upon Damascus, sweeping away almost every vestige 
of the faith of Christ. True, they were permitted for a 
time to occupy one-half of the great Church of St. John 
the Baptist, but even this doubtful boon was soon with- 
drawn, perhaps with the consent of the congregation, 
who most likely adopted in a great measure the faith of 
power and authority. The same church, now the great 
mosque of Damascus, stands in the center of the city, 
and the unlucky Christian whose curiosity or ignorance 
leads him too near its door, is saluted with a volley of 
stones from the troops of idle boys who hang about its 
spacious courts in search of amusement. A great temp- 
tation to the antiquary exists upon one of the arches of 
the mosque. It is an inscription dating back before the 
Moslem conquest of the city, and which has been for 
twelve hundred years overlooked or misunderstood by 
the jealous guardians of this the holiest shrine of the 
Mohammedans in Damascus. It is in Greek, and, trans- 
lated, runs thus : " Thy kingdom, O Christ, is an ever- 
lasting kingdom, and thy dominion endureth throughout 
all generations." 

An attempt was made during the reign of Baldwin to 
extend the dominion of the Crusader king over Damas- 
cus, but this signally failed, and Christianity has never 
been for a moment restored since its overthrow by the 
companions of the Prophet. 

Two centuries after this came Tamerlane, who swept 
it with the besom of destruction. He is called by the 
Arabs El Wahsh, "the wild beast." Hanging the black 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 335 



flag of desolation from his tent, he besieged the city with 
a premeditated resolve to destroy all within its walls. At 
length it was taken by storm, and after its inhabitants 
had paid in gold a stipulated price fixed by the conqueror 
upon each, he made an exciting speech to his soldiers and 
gave the word for indiscriminate slaughter. I was shown 
the spot near the gate JBab el Kabi^ where, in accordance 
with his custom, the victim erected a pyramid of human 
heads — a horrible monument of his ferocity. This was 
the worst blow inflicted upon Damascus in its whole 
history. The wealth accumulated by two centuries of 
peaceful industry was destroyed in a day. Its museums 
of antiquities, its rare fabrics of curious work, were 
dissipated and given to the flames. Its libraries, filled 
with the learning of the Saracen scholars, as well as of 
the fathers of the Eastern church, fell into the hands of 
barbarians as ruthless as had been the ancestors of these 
same Damascenes, when they, eight centuries before, had 
destroyed at Alexandria the learning of ages, because 
they either agreed with or differed from the Koran. 

Of the considerable Christian population then lingering 
in Damascus, tradition relates that but one single family 
escaped. Their descendants still are to be met with in 
Damascus. But the story they bad to tell of the Wahsh, 
and which had been handed down to them for centuries 
is passing away from their memories, to give place to the 
more recent and equally wanton massacre which has 
decimated their numbers within the last few years, and 
perpetrated by the descendants of those who had shared 
w r ith their ancestors the horrors of the visitation of Timour 
the Tartar. 

But during all these sieges, captures, and butcheries, 
and under these changes of dynasty, domestic revolution 
or foreign domination, and amidst discord, sedition, and 
untold evils beside, Damascus has always recovered her 
position and flourished anew, as if gifted with perpetual 



336 



GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



youth. It has been the richest and most prosperous city 
in Syria, alike under the tyranny of Persian satraps and 
Roman pro-consuls, and so it still remains, notwithstand- 
ing the ingenious combination of the faults of both of 
these united to his own by the Turkish pasha. It has 
survived Babylon and Xineveh, who scorned it, as well as 
Palmyra and Baalbec, who attempted vainly to rival it, 
to say nothing of whole generations of less notable places 
which have risen up around it and passed away forever. 
While they all lie in ruins, the home of the owl and the 
bar, the hyena and the jackal, Damascus flourishes in the 
freshness of youth. 

Damascus is the real capital of Syria, and the largest 
city in Asiatic Turkey. It has a population of one hun- 
dred and fifty thousand souls, of which one hundred and 
twenty-nine thousand are Moslems, fifteen thousand Chris- 
tians, and six thousand Jews. Its pasha ranks with the 
first princes of the empire, being not only governor of the 
province, but, what is considered vastly more important 
and honorable in the Mohammedan system, Emir el Haj, 
or Prince of the Pilgrim Caravan, it being his privilege 
and his duty to accompany and command the caravan of 
pilgrims which crosses the desert annually to Mecca. 
The pashalic of Damascus extends from Hamusah on the 
north to Petra on the south, and embraces that part of 
Syria east of the Jordan valley, the Buka'a, and the 
Orontes. The city is also the head-quarters of the army 
of Syria and the residence of the seraskier, or commander- 
in-chief, an office equal in rank to that of field-marshal in 
Europe. The Abana, a beautiful and swift-running 
stream, rises in the Anti-Lebanon, a few miles northwest 
of Damascus, and runs down the mountain gorges to the 
valley, passing directly through the city on its. way to a 
salt lake, a few miles further southeast, where it sinks 
away as do the waters of the great Nevada basin in our 
own country. Dams are constructed at frequent intervals 



SKETCHES OF TRA VEL. 



337 



above the city, and the water, taken out in stone ducts, 
irrigates the valley and supplies the fountains of Damas- 
cus. The city proper is upon the south bank of the river, 
but a wealthy suburb, inhabited by rich Mohammedans, 
occupies the north side, and is perhaps as populous as the 
older part. A rickety wall surrounds the old city, but so 
completely is it built against, both within and without, 
by houses, that only in a few places can the wall be seen. 
In fact, not only do houses stand against the wall, but 
very many are actually built upon it, in accordance with 
an ancient Oriental custom, and one which goes to verify 
the New Testament account of the escape of St. Paul from 
this city. 

Though the oldest city in the world, there is little of 
the antique in appearance in Damascus. This may be 
accounted for by the amount of wood used in house- 
building. The young poplars, which grow so thriftily 
upon the banks of the Abana, are cut down when they 
have attained a size sufficient for a single stick of house- 
timber, the sides squared with the axe and brought upon 
camels to the city. These are nsed freely in making 
joists and rafters, as well as to support the projecting 
brick walls, which are here invariably thrown out over 
the street from the top of the first story. This is done to 
shade the streets in summer from the rays of an almost 
tropical sun. But little stone is used in building. Sun- 
baked brick and poplar saplings, with plaster, is the 
material of all the houses, except the chief mosques and 
great government khans. These are built of square 
blocks of hewn stone, laid in alternate layers of white 
and dark, in accordance with the Saracenic custom, so 
much of which still remains in the Moorish parts of 
Spain. Nothing of the solid and everlasting stone wall 
appearance of Jerusalem is to be seen about Damascus. 
Instead of lasting for thousands of years, a Damascene 
house looks in danger of falling even before it has been 



338 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



completed. The houses of Alexandria and of Cairo are 
built in much the same manner as those of Damascus, 
and must, I think, be equally liable to speedy decay. 
The people are divided up according to their different re- 
ligious faith, and live in separate quarters. Each of the 
separate quarters, occupied by the Jews and Christians, 
are divided from the Mohammedan city, and from each 
other by gates which are locked up at eight o'clock at 
night, and no ingress or egress allowed until daylight the 
following day. 

Like the most of Oriental cities, there are in Damascus 
no streets, as we consider that term. Narrow alleys wind 
about between or under the houses without direction or 
system. Those which are not covered by the projecting 
upper stories of the houses fronting upon them are gen- 
erally roofed over with the young poplars of the Abana, 
and this again by the mats or split planks, such as are 
called in the West, clapboards or shakes. In such case the 
only light that penetrates to the street is that which 
struggles through the loose roof or gets in under the pro- 
jecting eaves. In this way all the streets in the business 
part of the town are covered — that is to say, the bazaars ; 
for the bazaars of the East are the substitute for what 
would be called with us the business streets. All along 
under these roofs are the little shops, six feet square, in 
which are displayed the goods, and where people come to 
buy and to sell. In Damascus, the streets in which the 
bazaars are situated are from six to fourteen feet wide. 
In fact, they are the most spacious streets in the city. 
And if the different religions are forced by custom or law 
to reside in separate quarters, it is the same way with 
respect to different classes of merchants or mechanics, for 
these in like manner congregate in bazaars devoted to the 
same craft with themselves. Here we have the silk 
bazaar, the shoe bazaar, the hat bazaar, the old-clothes 
bazaar, and the tobacco bazaar, where alone any of the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 339 



commodities in their respective lines of business can be 
purchased. Nor do any of these venture beyond the 
strictest edge of their trades. No cognate branches of 
traffic tempt the Damascene merchant to branch out from 
the known calling of his fathers. In the shoe bazaars no 
slippers or wooden pattens can be bought, and a dealer 
in trousers would scorn to sell a coat. Having purchased 
a red hat of one dealer, you must walk a furlong to the 
silk-thread merchant to buy material for a tassel, then as 
much farther to a tassel-maker's before your hat is fit to 
be worn. Would you smoke ? Having negotiated with 
the pipe merchant for a suitable nargileh, you are sent 
away in search of a stem. This found and bought, you 
inquire for the bazaar where you may get a mouth-piece. 
Your pipe is now ready for duty, but you have no tobacco. 
You are again sent away to the tobacco bazaar, and there 
having loaded the machine you stop a boy who, with a 
little portable furnace, is turning an honest piaster by 
carrying about fire for the lighting of pipes, and, having 
made a transaction with him, you may at last indulge 
your weakness for the weed. Much of this restriction in 
business, however, is doubtless due to the extreme small- 
ness of the shops in which it is necessarily transacted. 

The merchant comes from his house to the bazaar at 
ten o'clock in the morning, accompanied by a servant who 
bears upon his back all the goods that are to be exposed 
for the day. The shop is not too large to accommodate 
this supply. The floor is three feet above the street, the 
ceiling is not high enough to permit of its proprietor 
standing erect. He sits cross-legged on the floor at the 
outer edge of his establishment, and without rising from 
his place can reach any article which may be called for, 
exhibit it to the customer, who stands in the street, and 
when no longer needed, replace it upon the wall from 
which it was taken. It is natural under such circum- 
stances that a line of goods of the most limited character 



340 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



is quite enough, if not to monopolize the care and thought, 
at least to occupy all the shop-room of any particular 
trade. The merchants of Damascus, are undoubtedly 
great home people. Xo shop is opened before nine o'clock 
in the morning, and at three in the afternoon, all are 
closed save a few of the poorest character. There are 
but four days in the week that the bazaars of Damascus 
are opened and in the full activity of trade. These are 
the first four, beginning with Monday. Friday is the 
Moslem Sunday, and they are very strict in its observance. 
Saturday and Sunday are kept respectively by the Jews 
and Christians. Add to this the great number of fasts, 
feasts, and saints' days, the ramadans, passovers, and holy- 
days, so much observed by all portions of an ignorant 
community like that of an Oriental city, and it will be 
seen that but few days in the month, or even year, witness 
the bazaars of Damascus in all their splendor. 

Many and varied as are the queer sights to be met with 
in an Oriental city, it is only this one of Damascus in 
which the things one misses are as striking as the things 
one sees. For this is the first place where there is abso- 
lutely no such thing as European or Frankish society, 
permanent or transient. There are no theaters, and, of 
course, no operas in Damascus. * There is no lager to 
drink, and consequently no melodeons or lager beer 
cellars. There are no elections, general or primary, to 
the great detriment of the youth of the country, who 
lose this opportunity for mental and muscular develop- 
ment. The few schools where passages of the Koran are 
.taught to boys, are managed without a Board of Educa- 
tion ; I need not say, therefore, that the schools do not 
amount to much. There are no photographers in Damas- 
cus, though there was one some years ago; he was killed in 
the massacre. But what is more inconvenient than this, 
is the fact that there are no dentists, nor are there any 
oculists, aurists, or chiropodists. When the tooth aches, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



341 



it is considered the will of God. Ophthalmia is so prev- 
alent as to induce the suspicion that there are oculists 
going about secretly and exercising their cunning. Bare- 
footed people do not suffer greatly from corns. There 
are no hacks or carriages, and consequently, no hackmen. 
Besides Demitri Cara, the proprietor, there are no hotel- 
runners ; there are no livery-stable keepers, for there are 
no livery-stables ; there are no sewing-machine sellers and 
no telegraphs. jSTo newspapers being published, there 
are no editors ; but what is a greater loss to the public 
than this, there are no local reporters. I was about to 
say that there were no lawyers here, but do not dare to 
make the assertion ; no one would believe me. Ticket- 
agents and stock-brokers have not yet appeared in this 
city. There are no bar-keepers in Damascus ; nor do I see 
that the people are any the worse for the deprivation. 

Many of the missing occupations above named are in 
some manner supplied by something of a similar nature. 
The bar-keeper's role is filled in part by the vender of 
coffee, who has his house fronting upon some public place 
or by the river side, where people can go and sit in a cool 
place, sipping the Arabian beverage in cups the size of 
thimbles. Then lemonades, sherbet, orange-water, and a 
multitude of ingeniously constructed but harmless drinks 
cooled with the pure snows from Hermon's top, are carried 
about Damascus in a great glass, or rather jug, slung 
upon the back of a sturdy fellow, to which commodity he 
invites public attention by jingling together the bottoms 
of the glass drinking-cups. I liked these drinks so much 
that I stopped almost every fellow who passed me, and 
tasted of his wares. The price is so insignificant that the 
question of cost can scarcely enter into the consideration 
of drinking them. While there are no livery-stables, nor 
hacks, nor cabs, well-trained donkeys, with neat red sad- 
dles, stand in long rows at each corner ready to be hired, 
the mukarah calling your attention to the special virtues 



342 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



of his beast, and to the advantages afforded by riding 
over pedestrian exercises so loudly and clearly, that it is 
impossible to go amiss for this, the cab of the East. The 
local reporter would be more missed than he is but for the 
barbers and bath-house keepers, who it is said are posted 
upon all matters of importance, and spread public and 
private scandal to a degree commensurate with the wants 
of so phlegmatic a people as the Moslem and Oriental 
Christian. If it be true that there are no lawyers in 
Damascus, then am I wholly unable to account, upon any 
reasonable hypothesis for the supplying of such a void in 
the machinery of society. It is not strange that a com- 
munity, seven-eighths of which wear no shoes, should not 
be much in need of the services of a corn doctor. But 
without lawyers how can people live, and when dead what 
is to become of their estates ? It is fearful to contemplate. 
Let us better hope that I have been misinformed upon 
this point of the Damascene system. 

The evening of our arrival, after getting dinner, I did 
not so much as look out at the front door of the hotel, 
but having sat upon Demitri's divans in the reception 
rooms till nine o'clock, retired to bed ; but I was out 
early in the morning and off for a stroll. The Damas- 
cenes are not given to early rising. Business does not 
begin till ten o'clock, and even those who are early risers 
do not show themselves in the streets till near the time 
to open the shops. There is one street in Damascus 
which has maintained its identity through all the sieges 
and assaults, the changes of governments and of religions, 
from New Testament days down to our own time. It is 
" the street called Straight," where Saul of Tarsus was 
found by Ananias praying in the house of Judas. It is 
not a more important street to-day than others of Da- 
mascus, but it is interesting to walk the same ground over 
which the apostle is known to have passed eighteen hun- 
dred years ago. Within three minutes after leaving 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 343 



Demitri's house I was at the entrance to the " street 
called Straight." It bears the same name to-day that it 
bore in the time of Paul, and is the only street in 
Damascus at all deserving the name. It extends from the 
west to the east end of the city, a mile in distance, and 
though not absolutely straight is nearly so. Ten or 
twenty feet is probably the extent of its variation in that 
distance from a right line. The west end for a quarter 
of a mile is roofed over, and is what is known as the silk 
bazaar. Here all the richest silks of Damascus are kept 
and sold. Passing through this, the street is uncovered 
for the rest of the way to Bab Shurkey, the east gate, 
through which it passes, and where it ends in the open 
fields. 

The silk merchants had not yet made their appearance. 
I passed on through the silk bazaar for a quarter of a mile. 
A few merchants, more industrious than the others, were 
already beginning to raise up the wooden fronts to their 
shops ; but no goods had arrived. At the end of the 
covered portion of the street commences a bazaar devoted 
to restaurants and eating establishments. People were 
coming along in numbers, seeking their morning repast. 
I stopped, and leaning against a wall, watched the curi- 
ous spectacle. The bare necessities of life are wonder- 
fully cheap in Damascus. The poor rarely have fires in 
their rooms or houses ; but little cook-shops supply this 
class of people with food ready cooked. A half-naked 
fellow crawls out of a narrow side street ; the straws and 
dust upon his burnoose, the frowzy appearance of the tas- 
sel to his turban, show that he has slept in his clothes, 
and has but that moment left the divan or ground upon 
which he slept. A baker sits cross-legged in his shop, 
five feet square, and three feet above the street. By his 
side is a flat piece of iron resting on a small charcoal 
furnace. This is his oven or griddle. Between his legs 
is a pot of paste made of flour and w T ater. It is the 



SU GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



dough from which he bakes his bread. With a cup made 
of the half of a cocoa-nut shell he dips up a portion of this 
mixture and pours it upon the hot griddle, which emits a 
strong hissing sound and a savory fragrance pleasing to 
the nostrils of the passing Mussulman. He stops; he 
looks and longs for the tempting morsel. Meanwhile the 
baker sticking the handle of the dipper between his toes, 
with both hands raises the griddle from the furnace with 
a toss, the bread flies through the ambient air, and, de- 
scending, alights in the same place, but upon the uncooked 
side. The breakfast-seeker approaches and leans upon the 
elevated floor of the bake-shop. He addresses the baker, 
inquiring the price of the coveted article. A bargain is 
agreed upon, the money paid, and the soft and delicious 
food is transferred, hot and smoking, from the griddle to 
the hands of the happy purchaser. But his breakfast is 
not yet provided for. u Man liveth not by bread alone." 
But the food is hot, and imparts a celerity to the move- 
ments of its owner. He changes it rapidly from his 
right to his left hand, and back again, occasionally blow- 
ing upon it. On my side of the street sits another mer- 
chant, sedately attending to his business, nargileh in 
mouth. He, like the baker, has only a small but exceed- 
ingly choice selection of goods. His stock in trade is a 
pot of boiled beans, which simmers over the furnace. The 
man with the bread does not use the deliberation in this 
purchase which he did in the first. The Oriental slap- 
jack is burning his fingers. He closes with the first offer 
of the merchant and is owner of a cocoa-nut cup half full 
of beans. These are dipped hot from the pot and laid 
upon the bread, which is spread out upon the two hands 
of the purchaser to receive them. The cost of the whole 
breakfast has been about one cent, American money. 
This transaction concluded, the man with the straw on 
his burnoose takes his stand against the wall among a 
row of others dressed like himself and joins them in the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



345 



occupation of eating bread and beans and staring at the 
author, his queer tight breeches, and indescribable black 
hat. In the mean time more cakes are poured upon the 
smoking griddle of the baker, fresh coals are put under 
the bean pot opposite, and other customers saunter along 
to regale themselves upon these luxuries. Occasionally 
one better dressed, his turban with a stripe of green, his 
burnoose clean, his feet covered with yellow shoes, but 
without stockings, approaches the baker and buys of his 
wares. Then he passes to the bean merchant and gets 
his bread covered with the contents of the pot. But his 
station in life, his wealth and distinction, forbid him to be 
content with such simple fare. He must feast sumptu- 
ously every day, for he wears the green turban of the 
descendants of the Prophet. He therefore passes on to 
One who ministers to the wants of the luxurious. Just 
beyond me he finds that which he seeks. A venerable 
Syrian is selling, in the name of the Prophet, onions 
chopped in the clabbered milk of the goat. For a copper 
coin, not less than one thousand of which would equal in 
value a dollar, he induces this merchant to add to the 
bread and beans, which rest upon the palms of his out- 
stretched hands, a modicum of this delicate preparation. 
His breakfast is now served ; he withdraws to an unoc- 
cupied part of the wall, away from the humbler throng, 
who have for a moment left olf staring at me to indulge 
the senses of sight and smell in the delights of a dish 
which their limited means forbids them to taste. Thus he 
stands, and slowly, and with becoming dignity, partakes 
of the food which his wealth has enabled him to com- 
mand. 

This is one of precisely similar scenes which are taking 
place all down the " street called Straight," for the whole 
length of the city. I walk a little farther and take my 
stand against the wall to see other bakers cook and sell, 
one after another, cakes to hundreds of customers; these, 

15* 



346 GOIXG TO JERICHO; OR, 



standing about in dozens, each waiting for his turn, and 
each watching the cake that is destined to be his from the 
moment it is segregated from the common mass in the 
pot, all through the stages of its construction, thanking 
the Prophet in pious gratitude when it has safely vaulted 
into the air and returned to its place upon the griddle to 
cook the other side, and, in anticipation, enjoying the 
delicious repast a dozen times over while the process is 
going on. In the mean time, busy bean-cooks are con- 
veniently located near the bakers, and a constant travel is 
kept up between them ; and boys are running about with 
plates of bread and beans, which they take to women, 
who may not appear in public to buy for themselves. 

But what is this some one is sino-ins: in the distance — 
sweet music ? All the breakfasters cease their meal, lay- 
ing the remnants carefully aside. The baker pours no 
more paste upon the griddle ; the bean-pot is carefully 
covered. The merchants spread each a sheepskin upon 
his floor, and, turning with the Kebla, bows to the earth. 
The breakfasters leave the street in search of a fountain 
in which to prepare their bodies by fitting ablutions 
for that prayer which they are told by the muezzin from 
the minaret top, in sweet and melodious trills, is better 
than gold or jewels, sweeter than beauty or health, more 
invigorating than food or sleep. Until the hour of 
morning prayer is past no more business will be trans- 
acted, so I saunter along quite through the town to Bab 
Sharkey, the east gate. 

On the right, toward this gate, is the Jews', and on the 
left the Christians' quarter, the two occupying the whole 
of the east end of the city. Without Bab Sharkey 
begins the fields, the cemeteries, and the gardens of 
Damascus. It was open and unguarded. I passed 
through and stood gazing at the queer Saracenic gate, 
crowned with a lofty minaret. A crowd soon collected 
around me, and among them, to my surprise, a lad 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



347 



addressed me in tolerable French. He was a young 
Christian whose family had been destroyed in the great 
massacre of 1880, he alone escaping. In simple language 
he told his story — for of all his people, he alone was left 
to tell it. In his wanderings he had reached the sea- 
coast, and had been carried away to Marseilles, where he 
had remained eighteen months. Why he had come back 
to Damascus, where he had suffered so terribly, he could 
scarcely tell. But I found an answer for him in the 
longing for home found in every heart. He was work- 
ing as a mason on a building hard by. He had spoken 
not one word of French since his return to Damascus 
four years before, and had forgotten much of the lan- 
guage. Enough was left to tell a tale of sorrow and suf- 
fering thought to exist only in romance. His family 
cruelly slaughtered, and himself driven an outcast from 
home, to return no less a pariah than before. But this 
moment repaid him for years of suffering. He had at last 
found a Christian Frank with whom he could converse. 
Fifty Turks and as many Druzes and Syrian Mohamme- 
dans stood there witnessing this his glorious triumph. 
It was all plain to me. His heart swelled with pride. 
The Frankish lord from the West was his brother, and 
stood there talking to him in an unknown tongue as an 
equal. His brother, who controlled the storms and the 
lightnings, who harnessed steam to his car and made it 
draw him to their door, was then at Damascus, not to 
converse with unbelieving Mohammedans, but with him, 
the poor despised Christian. The crowd drew around us 
as we conversed, and the poor fellow interpreted to them 
each word that I spoke as something of priceless value. 
I was for the moment the embodiment of Western power. 
I knew all that was going on in Syria, from Lebanon's 
snows to distant Tadmor in the desert. It was myself 
alone who had stopped the massacre of the Christians in 
the East, I had protested, through my consuls of Eng> 



348 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



land, of France, and of America, against my brothers 
being driven from the earth. And when Islam had 
dared to disobey my mandate, I had marched my 
invincible legions to the banks of the Leontes, nor 
stayed my hand ^till the carcasses of the infamous 
Achmet Pasha, governor of Damascus, with one hun- 
dred and seven of his fellow-murderers, had dangled 
at this Bab Sharkey, under which we stood, put to 
death by those who surrounded us, participators in his 
crime, and forced executioners of Western vengeances. 
And he could stand by my side, he, the scorned and 
humiliated ray ah, whose duty it was, when meeting one 
of them in the bazaar, to give the wall and go himself 
into the kennel ; he who, before this exhibition of my 
power, must not ride so much as a donkey ; must dress 
in black ; must not build his house s6 high as that of his 
Mohammedan neighbor, nor use the noble Arabian lan- 
guage; he also, who must not, according to Eastern 
etiquette, elevate his voice when conversing with one of 
them, might stand and talk as long and as loud as he 
pleased in the language of power to their conqueror and 
humiliator, his defender and protector, the mighty West- 
ern lord, his Christian brother. He told me none of this 
in words, but his actions, his kindled eye, his lofty bear- 
ing, his defiant look when speaking to the murderers of 
his father and mother, his flrothers and sisters, spoke 
more eloquently than words. These said plainly : 
" Exercise your contemptible hatred and malice upon 
me, spit upon me, kick me out of your path as you pass 
the bazaars, but beware that you go no further. If my 
brethren have not sooner heard my cry of anguish and 
crushed you under the iron heel of their power, it is be- 
cause they are too much absorbed in their struggle with 
\the elements, with time and space, with the storms of the 
sea and lightnings of the heavens. I care not for your 
contempt, for it is the offspring of your ignorance. It is 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



349 



not for the opinion of such as you that I live. Behold 
how I am received by my brethren, your masters, and 
remember the fate of Achmet." 

I had with me a small lithographed plan of Damascus 
and its environs, bound in book form. This I opened and 
ascertained my position. A vast heap of rubbish, the 
accumulation of ages of imperfect Oriental scavenge ring, 
faces Bab Shurkey, the summit higher than the city wall, 
commanding the interior and the country about. The 
carcasses of dogs, in untold numbers, reek in the burning 
sun at the top, for here they have been thrown for ages. 
This, and more beside, I learned by a moment's examina- 
tion of the chart and book. I was asked to go up and 
enjoy the view. " I will not ascend the hill," I said to 
the young Christian, " for I do not wish to undergo the 
smell of all the dead dogs of Damascus. I will rather go 
to yonder angle in the wall, whence St. Paul was let 
down in a basket when he escaped from the city." This 
he soon interpreted to the astonished bystanders, with 
many additions of his own. The great Christian, his 
brother, possessed a book of magic, by which he was in- 
formed of all things. He knew that dead dogs polluted 
the air at the top of the rubbish heap, for the wonderful 
book told him so. Likewise, if he chose to consult it, he 
would know to whom belonged the dogs, and of what 
disorder they died. Was not Holy Paul a saint? And 
had he not been, as is related in the Christian's Bible, let 
down from the walls of Damascus ; for otherwise, how 
would his Christian brother from the West know from 
the mysterious book the fact, as well as the identical spot 
from which the descent was made ? I showed them where 
the tent of the fiery Khaled had stood without the walls, 
as well as the gate from which issued the fugacious Jonas, 
with his faithful but pious betrothed. These agreed with 
the traditions they had received from their old men. 
They crowded around me to look at a book which knew 



350 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



and could tell a stranger the local stories of JEsh Sham, 
the holy city. But my young Christian wondered not. 
He had been in the home of his Frankish brother, and 
knew the springs and sources of that power whose mighty 
wave had burst over the protecting Syrian mountains to 
this Bab Shurkey, scattering and wrecking the feeble 
bulwarks of Islam as the straw before the tempest. He 
knew what his brother from the West was capable of 
doing, and knowing, besides, that his power originated 
in the truth of that faith which was the bond between 
us, he felt that he, too, shared in that power, and all the 
honor proceeding from the achievements of the wonder- 
ful book. He stood beside me and interpreted as I read, 
and pointed out, with a look of proud satisfaction, in 
which surprise had no place, the localities of the histori- 
cal events. But the Mussulmans could not restrain their 
wonder, nor account for the miracle. u God is great," 
they said, " and it is his will that the Frank should hold 
the keys of knowledge. But Mohammed alone is the 
prophet of God." 

We left Bab Shurkey in a great crowd, walking along 
the wall to St. Paul's window, and thence into the gardens 
to the scene of his conversion. It is but a half mile from 
the hole in the wall where tradition has located his escape. 
But these places shift so rapidly that, ten years from this 
time, another traveler may find them both at another 
side of the city. Close to the scene of St. Paul's conver- 
sion, we found a caravan of camels, three hundred or 
more, resting in a great beaten square. Some stood upon 
their feet, with drooping heads close to the earth, in sad 
and mournful contemplation. Others knelt upon their 
four knees as only camels recline, chewing the cud, and 
ruminating upon the green fields of Yemen. They had 
arrived that morning from Bagdad. " I wish to ride one 
of these," I said to my young Christian friend. " You 
are fatigued," he said. " I will run away to the city and 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 351 



fetch you a donkey." " No ; it is my fancy. I wish to 
ride one of these camels." He could not understand why, 
but yielded. " Let me first make a bargain as to the 
price," said he, " otherwise you will be defrauded." He 
was soon negotiating with the Bedouin master of the 
camels. They talked long and loud — I saw that they differed 
as to prices. The quarrel continued, and I became uneasy 
about my ride ; the fellow must be demanding some 
incredible sum. At last I inquired what was the extent 
of the disagreement. " This Arab would rob you," was 
the answer, " and I will not consent to it." " What does 
he ask ?" I inquired. " Oh, it is scandalous — he wants 
half a piaster, and I have offered him ten paras." The 
Arab wanted two cents and a quarter, and my Mend 
thought one cent of our money quite sufficient. To the 
amazement of the camel-driver, and probably as he was 
about to accent the latter sum, I cut the matter short by 
paying the half piaster. With great gravity, he led up 
one of the largest of the herd, and caused him to kneel 
to receive me upon his back. The beast got down un- 
willingly, with many a groan and a grunt, pretending to 
bite at all within his reach, for so they always do, and I 
got upon his back behind the pack-saddle. I expected to 
hear shouts of laughter from my Mohammedan suite, but 
not so much as a smile broke upon their yellow faces. To 
mount a camel is, of course, to them no more ludicrous than 
to mount a horse. When I was securely seated, I was told 
to hold on firmly, and then the camel was ordered to rise. 
To remain firmly seated on one of these animals as he 
gets up is not an easy matter to a beginner. First, he 
gives a great swing, and then rears upon his fore legs ; 
then another equally startling, and the back part comes 
up. The motion of traveling is very severe, but the 
lying down to dismount is even harder than the other, 
for the camel goes down upon his fore knees first, and 
then follows with his hinder parts, so that there is great 



352 GOIXG TO JERICHO; OR, 



danger of being thrown forward upon your head. After 
being led about for a half-hour till I was quite tired, we 
were led back to Bab Shurkey, and dismounted. A 
second half piaster of backshish sent the camel-driver 
away, happy with his morning's work, and we entered 
the Christian quarter. 

The Damascenes have a tradition that Mohammed, while 
yet a youth and acting as factor for the rich Arabian 
widow — the first convert to his person and faith, led his 
camels, laden with the products of Yemen, to the hills 
which surround Damascus, and, from a commanding emi- 
nence, surveyed its rare and varied beauties ; that, after 
gazing long at the glorious panorama of gilt domes and 
stately roofs, rising from groves of the fragrant plum and 
graceful date, he stopped his progress and refused to enter 
the walls of Esh-Sham. " To man is accorded but one 
paradise," said the cautious Prophet, " and mine will I 
choose in heaven." This said, and turning his back upon 
the tempting scene, he traced his toilsome journey to 
Mecca, nor did he ever set his sacred foot within the 
beautiful city by the Abana. In attempting to describe 
a scene which so impressed the founder of Islam, there is 
danger of degenerating into mere idle rhapsody. It is 
not sufficient to recount emotions which are naturally 
experienced upon viewing them, but some notion of the 
gorgeous picture itself, which has given rise to such sen- 
timents, must be depicted and held up before the reader. 
To do this requires powers beyond any which I possess. 
To give the merest list of its gardens, made shady by the 
spreading walnut, the plum, and the peach, and watered 
by the clear fountains which bubble from the Abana; of 
the cafes, where lamps pendant from trees or resting by 
the river-side, glisten in the rushing water below, while 
the gay and wealthy loiter among the groves, or smoke 
the nargileh and listen to the Eastern songs or Arabian 
music during the gorgeous evenings of a half-tropical 



SKETCHES OF TEA YEL. 



353 



clime — would be to provoke a smile at an attempt to drag 
down to the level of real life that which properly belongs 
to the realms of poetry. I am, therefore, forced to aban- 
don this tempting effort by the sheer impossibility of 
doing justice to the most beautiful, and richest, and most 
ideal of all the cities of the Orient. 

Let me, therefore, come back to that which, if not so 
pleasing to the fancy, may at least satisfy the reader by 
its truthfulness to nature. We will go together through 
the bazaars of Damascus ; and in order to get quite down 
to the hard earth of reality, instead of spending five 
piasters for a donkey with red saddle and bare-legged 
boy to drive him, we will plunge through the dust and 
mire that lies about the market-place between Demitri's 
house and the city proper, and walk alone and without 
dragoman or guide to the entrance to the great bazaar 
between Bab el-Hadid and the tomb of Abu-Obeidah. 

The great citadel or castle of Damascus stands just 
within the gate Bab el-Hadid, and along its front quite up 
to the " street called Straight," is an open place filled all 
the day with throngs of people, and with its sidewalks 
covered with stools upon which sit smokers of the nar- 
ileh. And this, too, is a special business. None but 
he wealthy or great can aspire to own this elegant instru- 
ent of Eastern luxury. The nargileh involves an ex- 
enditure of capital beyond the dreams of the common 
altitude of an Oriental city. The poorest one costs five 
ollars, a sum the expending of which in a year would 
ighten the working man of Damascus. The Damascene 
ho, by industry or by the fortunate demise of estates 
om the old by opportune death, comes to such a sum 
f money or to the proprietorship of such an instrument, 
ts himself up in business. To the nargileh he adds a 
half dozen low three-legged stools and sits him down by 
the river-side, by the mosque floor, or in the great open 
space in front of the castle. The nargileh is a pipe with 



354 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



a bowl so arranged that the smoke passes through a glass 
jar filled with water. The smoker takes one of the low 
stools, the others being perhaps already filled, and having 
paid his few paras to the proprietor, is entitled, in his 
turn with the others, to put to his mouth the long, hollow 
leather tube and inhale the smoke for a half-dozen breaths. 
It thus passes to the next, and so on around, according 
to rules understood by those who smoke in that way. 
One nargileh is enough to supply a group of a half-dozen, 
and so they are spread or scattered along the castle wall 
to the number of hundreds, silent and thoughtful, each 
waiting for his turn at the mouth-piece. 

From the corner of the castle, quite up to the street of 
" Straight," the shops are devoted to the manufacture of 
arms, especially that of the Damascus sword -blade, which 
is still carried on here to a considerable extent. But the 
strangest of all is to see one of these sword-makers in his 
little shop, no larger than the others in Damascus, squat- 
ted cross-legged upon the floor, his anvil not larger than 
a hammer should be, his bellows the size of a man's hat, 
holding the blade with his toes and pounding it with a 
hammer held in his hands. He thus forges out one sword 
and finishes it and perhaps sells it and spends the money 
before he begins another; nor could he well do more, for 
his little box five feet square is but just large enough to 
turn the long, crooked cimeter around without his being 
obliged to get up from his seat and go into the street for 
that purpose. Just beyond the armorers' shops are to be 
found those of the wood-turners. These are of the same 
size, one artisan, the proprietor, being alone engaged in 
each. These make even more use of their toes than 
do the sword-makers, for while the piece of wood is 
being turned with the right hand, acting with a bow and 
string worked back and forth, the left hand and toes of 
the right foot are engaged in holding the chisel to the 
revolving timber. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



355 



Threading our way among the little groups of nargileh 
smokers, now hugging the wall to avoid a line of straw- 
laden camels plodding past with their long swan necks 
and hopeless faces stretched out, now catching by the 
head the donkey of a passing effendi and pushing him out 
of our way — a thing he has been vainly trying to do by 
dint of heel and bridle — we enter the Great Bazaar. It 
is a narrow, un paved street, eight feet wide. Poles are 
laid across from the house-tops, and a loose roof of split 
boards keeps out the sun's rays. In effect, it resembles a 
long, low, narrow, rough shed, and with the turnings and 
ramifications, the cross alleys and the inner courts, 
extends in every direction over at least ten acres of land. 
One may get lost in the Great Bazaar, for having once 
entered, it is like the interior of a cave or mine, with its 
chambers and levels, and with no point of the compass 
by which to be guided in coming out again. Upon each 
side of the bazaar front the queer little shops of the mer- 
chants who deal there, while the street or causeway is 
filled with people pouring along, or by the customers of 
the merchants who stand without the shops to transact 
their business ; for no shop is large enough to permit 
of any but the proprietor entering it, and even he must, 
from sheer lack of space, sit cross-legged upon the floor 
in one corner. But we are not safe from being jostled 
even within the Great Bazaar. True, the camels with 
straw and wood do not pass through the bazaars when 
they can avoid it, but donkeys and horses are equally 
privileged with footmen, and their owners assume even 
greater rights. Besides, the merchants who sit sedately 
in the shops, there are dealers running about the bazaars 
selling single articles. One has a silk robe, another a 
pair of old pistols, flint lock and silver mounted, almost 
large enough for field pieces. These shout at the tops of 
their voices the commendation of their wares. A third 
has a second-hand buinoose, of the striped cloth of 



356 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



Yemen, which he would sell for a few piasters to some 
Bedouin, for by such only are they worn. A fourth flour- 
ishes a cimeter of Damascus make which he swears is 
centuries old, came from the armory of Noureddin, and 
bears still the stain of the blood of unbelievers. Orange- 
water sellers and venders of the different iced drinks run 
about in every direction, with jars strapped upon their 
backs, attracting attention to their goods by clinking 
together the glasses out of which the purchaser partakes 
of the beverage. The merchant from Mosul, who has 
arrived by the Bagdad caravan, walks up and down, or 
smokes upon a low stool with the trader from Aleppo, 
each pulling from time to time from some mysterious fold 
in his burnoose a shawl or a piece of silk which he has 
to sell. Now the crowd opens to make place for two 
blind beggars, who are traversing the length of the 
bazaars, singing extemporaneous praises of the Prophet. 
One takes the right-hand wall and the other the left, so 
that none can escape without notice, and thus proceeding 
slowly abreast, they make their melodious progress, sing- 
ing in a sort of musical dialogue, first one and then the 
other. They sing the sweet wailing melody of Arabia, 
as sung by the muezzin from the minaret top, when the 
faithful are called to prayer, as chanted by the heart-sick 
maiden, telling her tale of love, and as shouted by the 
matrial heroes who carried the Crescent to the pillars of 
Hercules, leaving their manners and music in distant 
Andalusia. Copper paras thrown loosely into the out- 
stretched basin is the jingling reward of so much harmo- 
nious piety, and so they pass on their way, the crowd of 
pistol and burnoose sellers, the lemonade boys, the Mosul 
and Aleppo merchants, and the great public, closing 
up behind them. Again they rush up and down, declaim- 
ing about the sharpness of the cimeter, as well as its event- 
ful history ; the beauty of the pistols and the richness of 
the robes, till they are forced to the right and to the left 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



357 



by one who rushes at full speed with waving wand in 
hand proclaiming that his mightiness, the pasha, comes. 
Silence is restored, and his highness passes upon his 
blooded horse, without deigning to look at the multitude 
who stands silent along the thoroughfare. 

But what is this ? A man slowly walking down the 
bazaar with fixed gaze, as if in deep thought. His hair 
long and matted, as if there was never a comb in all 
Syria. He has no turban upon his head, no shoes upon 
his feet, no burnoose upon his back. He is naked as the 
day he came into the world. Yet were he clad in purple 
robes with ermine trimming, and covered with sable hat 
and nodding plume of the great bird of Africa, he could 
not stalk more grandly down the public bazaar than he 
does, with his bare skin exposed to the air and light of 
heaven. But no one observes this queer costume. Among 
all the merchants of Damascus who sit all the blessed day 
cross-legged in their shops, or the traders from Bagdad 
and Aleppo who resort there for traffic only, not one looks 
up from the gurgling nargileh at his feet or the silken 
robe under examination. The bearer of the cimeter once 
wielded by the invincible Koureddin ceases not to recount 
its exploits. The pistol-seller goes on with his story. 
The great crowd of peddlers and loiterers, strangers and 
citizens, walk up and down, taking no more notice of the 
unclothed man than if he were clad in the striped cloth of 
Yemen, with corded kefiyeh upon his head. He is a " holy 
man," and this is the costume of holy men in the East. 
By walking down to the Khan As'ad Pasha, at the other 
side of the bazaar, we shall meet a dozen such. They are 
therefore no novelty. The holy man begins his career of 
holiness by throwing off one article of raiment — for ex- 
ample, the turban — and then appears walking slowly 
through the bazaars, every day for a month. He then 
dispenses with his burnoose, and so on till in three or 
four months he is a holy man in the complete uniform of 



358 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

his order, respected by the ignorant and superstitious, free 
at all public places, pays for nothing, and is responsible to 
nobody. 

The holy man passes on into the great square in front 
of the castle, and we resume our stroll through the 
bazaars, passing in succession the silk bazaar, the tailors' 
bazaar, the spice bazaar, the tobacco bazaar, the shoe 
bazaar, the silversmiths' bazaar, the clog bazaar, the book 
bazaar, and the saddlers' bazaar. And in these we find 
goods as various as the costumes of the customers who 
stroll through the sheds staring at them. Indian muslins, 
Manchester prints, Persian carpets, Lyons silks, Damascus 
swords, Birmingham knives, amber mouth-pieces from 
Constantinople or Vienna ; antique china from Central 
Asia; cashmere shawls and French ribbons, Mocha coffee 
and Dutch sugar, all crowded together, and all affected 
with the sweet smells of the neighboring bazaar, where 
are sold the ottar of roses from Adrianople or Mecca, 
with the sandal wood and cinnamon, the jasmine and 
sweet scents from Ceylon and Bengal. 

At last we arrive in front of a great solid stone house 
with Saracenic arches and the striped layers of Arabian 
architecture. In the great central court is a fountain, 
around which a dozen travel-worn camel-drivers are wash- 
ing their hands and feet. Bales of merchandise of every 
variety are piled about the court, and camel trains and 
donkey droves are unloading hard by. It is the great 
Khan As'ad Pasha. Built hundreds of years ago, it has 
been the resort of the merchants of Bagdad and Aleppo 
with their goods since its construction. The Khan of 
Damascus unites the qualities of the Merchants' Exchange 
with that of a sort of free tavern. Here the merchant of 
distant cities, who resorts to Damascus for a market, un- 
loads his goods and deposits them until sold, free of 
charge. Here he reposes at night upon his sheep-skin 
spread in the great court, as freely and as securely as in 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



359 



the trackless desert through which he has just journeyed. 
And here he is sought by the merchant of Damascus who 
is in need of his wares, and, the bargain being struck, the 
money is paid in the presence of the khan-master, who 
has his lodge by the great entrance, to prevent frauds and 
extortion. This done his camels are brought from the 
open fields to the khan, where they take a return load of 
the fabrics of Damascus, and issue from Bab Shurkey on 
their way, by Tadmor in the Desert, to distant Mosul 
and Bagdad. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 



THE QUEEN OP PALMYRA. 

It was our good fortune to make the acquaintance of 
the resident manager of the macadamized road between 
Damascus and Beyrout. A native of Constantinople, he 
had been educated in both the French and Arabian lan- 
guages. A residence of several years in Damascus had 
given him the entre to the best houses of the residents 
of all religions and nationalities. By his introduction 
we visited many of the best houses — Mohammedans, 
Christians, and Jews, and were always well received. 
Among them was that of an English lady, whose history, 
if I felt at liberty to relate it as it is told currently in 
Damascus, would be a most curious example of the 
strange vicissitudes often occurring in real life, rivaling 
in interest the sensation novels of the day. But as many 
of these stories concerning the lady have been already 
printed by inconsiderate or scandal-loving travelers, per- 
haps to the great violation of truth, and certainly to the 
cruel and wanton injury of one who has been at least as 
much " sinned against as sinning," I shall only state that 
which I believe to be the admitted fact, and which she 
would probably not object to have stated. 

More than forty years ago this lady, then young and 
beautiful — the daughter of one of the proudest barons of 
England — was married to one whose rank was equal to 
that of her father — celebrated as one of the first statesmen 
of his time, the holder successively of the offices of Lord 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 361 



Privy Seal, President of the Board of Control, Governor- 
General of India, and First Lord of the Admiralty. The 
son of one of the most celebrated of the judges who have 
presided over the Court of Queen's Bench, he is at this 
time an earl and a member of her British Majesty's Privy 
Council. Two or three children were born of this marriage, 
all of whom died. Then came a separation. The scandal 
of forty years ago can afford but little amusement to a 
generation which feels quite equal to the task of furnish- 
ing its own supply of this delightful entertainment. It is 
enough to say that there was a divorce. Who was wrong 
I know not ; but, as usual in such cases, the verdict of 
the world was against the woman. Whether right or 
wrong, her proud spirit scorned the judgment as well as 
the pity of her countrymen. She left her native land, 
never to return. After hearing all that has been said in 
disparagement of the lady, as well as such evidence as 
the world is content to act upon, I have made up my 
judgment that it is false. But no invention of the past 
can equal the strange reality of the present. Fifteen 
years ago, while traveling in the desert east of Damascus, 
her train was attacked by a tribe of robber Bedouins, 
many of her attendants slain and her own life placed in 
great peril. From this she was delivered by a young Arab 
called Migael, sheik of the tribe which holds the territory 
about the ruins of ancient Palmyra, or "Tadmor in the 
Desert," as it is called by the people of the country. That 
there is a deal of romance in the character of this lady is 
apparent, even without the sequel to the story. She car- 
ried out the drama to a conclusion as extreme as the most 
romantic mind could wish. She married the young 
Migael according to the rites of his tribe, then and there 
in the desert, as he stood in his flame-colored kefiyeh and 
burnoose of the striped cloth of Yemen. The story told 
in Damascus is that the young fellow resisted to the last 
the conclusion which the romantic lady considered so 
1G 



362 GOING TO JERICHO; ,0R, 



necessary to make up the poetry of the ease ; that he 
mounted his swiftest horse and fled into the wildest 
depths of the desert, but in vain ; that she was as good a 
horseman as himself, and mounted, not upon the degen- 
erate steed of Arabia of the present, but upon a horse who 
traced his lineage through many a sire and dam famed as 
Derby winners, back to Flying Ghilders and the Go- 
dolphin Arabian. That she could ride as well as any 
Arab, sheik or no sheik, her English bringing up is suf- 
ficient to settle ; and as to the quality of her horses, those 
I saw in her stables were such as Mr. Migael would never 
have dreamed of possessing, but for the event which put 
him in command of the resources of a wealthy English 
woman. But of the probabilities of a half-starved Arab 
being unwilling to sacrifice his dried beans, barley cakes, 
and sour camel's milk, for the comforts of a well-spread 
table and good clothes, if he wanted them, simply because 
coupled with a fine woman, can be as easily estimated by 
the reader as another. It is also said that a condition of 
her marriage contract was that he should waive the right 
accorded him by the laws of his religion and his country 
of possessing a phvrality of wives. This I doubt. But 
that he could successfully practice polygamy in the house 
where his present wife resides, no one after seeing her 
would even for a moment think possible. It is generally 
understood that he has never done so. 

Two months before our arrival, while riding upon a fa- 
vorite horse in the suburbs of Damascus, she had met with 
a fall, resulting in a severe injury in the nature of a sprain 
to one of her ankles. She had not been able to go out of 
her house since the accident, nor had she received any 
company. We were therefore most agreeably surprised 
at receiving an invitation to visit her at her house, with- 
out the east gate. The invitation to our party could 
scarcely be taken as a great compliment either to our- 
selves or to the nationality represented by us. It was 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



363 



understood that English travelers were seldom admitted 
within her walls, but that all others w T ere generally gladly 
received. It appeared to me that her old notions upon 
the question of caste remained in force only with respect 
to her own country people. Toward them she never for- 
got that she was the daughter of a lord, and therefore 
none but her peers could be met upon terms of equality ; 
and as English lords seldom find themselves or are found 
in Damascus, my lady must be content to seek society 
in a lower grade. But Mr. Tom N"oddy, the merchant 
of London, or Smith, Jones, and Brown, manufacturers 
from Sheffield, Birmingham, or Manchester, must not 
be permitted for an instant to suppose that their plebeian 
noses may penetrate the sacred inclosure which hedges 
about even this shattered remnant of English nobility. 
It would be too fine a thing for such as these to dilate 
upon to admiring friends in Hampton Court grounds 
of a Sunday, or over their beef and pudding at Simpson's 
in the Strand on week days, that they had seen my Lady 
So-and-So living with her Arab husband at Damascus. 
But this idea of excluding those beneath her did not 
appear in force with respect to Americans. "Here is a 
nation," she probably reasons, " without traditions and 
without ancestors. It therefore ought to be without 
caste. All are alike shop-keepers and money-getters. 
One is at least as good as another, and possibly better, 
if I am to believe what he says about it ; and what other 
evidence can I get ? Besides, they come from the other 
side of the world, and the probabilities are in favor of 
their getting back there again. It is at least pretty cer- 
tain that they will never, by any chance, meet with any 
of my acquaintances of the past or present. I will there- 
fore send for the savages and see how they behave, and 
hear what is going on at the antipodes." 

But all of these mental processes, which may or may 
not have preceded our invitation, had no elFect upon our 



364: GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



conduct. The invitation was polite, even to the point of 
being pressing. An hour was set, and it was further 
urged that ours would be the first Frankish visitors she 
would have seen since the painful accident two months 
before. We consulted Demitri, our constant adviser upon 
all questions of importance. He said, " Go, by all means." 
" How shall we go ?" said L " Ride," said Demitri. 
" Ride what ?" said I. " Ride what ! Ride donkeys, of 
course." So donkeys were ordered from the nearest 
corner and we set off. It is a mile from Demitri's house, 
and at the edge of the great Mohammedan suburb. 
Groves of peach, plum, and apricot trees line the road and 
fill the air with the fragrance of their blossoms. A high 
stone wall incloses the house and four or five acres of orna- 
mental grounds of the English lady. Three Arab servants 
met us at the gate and stood bowing as we passed in. One 
led the way to a stone structure in the middle of the 
garden, where the lady awaited us. A pavilion it would 
be called in Europe ; here it is a " kiosk," but more Eng- 
lish than Oriental in character. 

We found her seated upon a divan in a large room. 
But upon our entry she rose and sat in a chair. The 
room was furnished with a full set of European furniture 
as well as having divans placed in order round the walls, 
in the Eastern style. This was the first day she had at- 
tempted to sit up since the accident, she told us in English, 
and then repeated the same in French to the Turkish 
gentleman who was with us. She regretted exceedingly 
the absence of the Sheik, who was with his tribe at Tad- 
mo r in the Desert. So we must content ourselves with 
her indifferent ability to show us the courtesies due to us 
in our quality of guests and strangers. This she told us, 
and I hope she meant it. " We are sorry," we said " that 
the Sheik is away," and I am sure we were sincere, for 
it would have been something to see the Bedouin youth 
who had captured or been captured by so fine a woman. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



365 



Just then a servant entered with coffee, invariably the first 
thing to be done in the way of making a visitor welcome 
in the East. This we sipped, and the company conversed 
freely in English and in French, the lady speaking one as 
well as the other. Of course she led the conversation. 
She had been reading Galignani's Messenger when we 
came in, and that journal was lying open by her side. 
She knew all that was going on in Europe as well as if 
she were there. The Paris Exposition interested her 
greatly. She had seen a set of parlor furniture that was 
being made in Damascus to exhibit there. It was very 
fine, of silk and gold work, in the fashion of the country. 
" Was the furniture made in the European or Oriental 
style ?" one of us asked. " Necessarily in the European 
style," she replied, "for the Orientals, sitting upon the 
ground and eating with their fingers from one dish, need 
no parlor furniture, and so, have none. It therefore 
follows that there is no such thing as an Oriental fashion 
in the make of furniture. This divan, built as a part of 
the room itself, is the only furniture in the best Eastern 
house or palace." 

She spoke of the massacre of Christians by the Moham- 
medans in 1860. She had seen it all. "In fact, several 
lives had been saved by the Sheik," she said, " who took 
the poor creatures into the house and protected them." 
I fancied that I saw in this something of woman. That 
the little Sheik Migael, all Arab of the desert and Moham- 
medan as he was, would protect any Christian at such a 
time, I doubted. It is more likely that the brave English- 
woman did it herself, and then, woman like, gave the 
credit where, if it was not due, it was at least greatly 
needed. She believed that the massacre was instigated 
by the Sublime Porte at Constantinople. Achmet Pasha, 
the then Governor of Damascus, was a constant visitor 
at her house. He was, she said, there only the day before 
the horrid affair began ; and from words that then fell 



366 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



from his lips, she believes to this day he had- at that 
moment the order in his pocket to destroy the Christian 
population. She believes further that he yielded obe- 
dience to the monstrous decree most unwillingly. And 
when the unfortunate man was afterward, at the imperi- 
ous order of the French Government, put to death at 
Bab Shurkey with others of the murderers, she thinks he 
was made a scapegoat by the pusillanimous sultan to bear 
his own sins, and who did not dare avow the measure he 
had undertaken to carry out. We had heard this before 
from the Christians of Damascus, and thought it not 
without foundation in fact. 

Much was said of the East, of France, and of Russia, 
but not one word of England nor of any thing English. 
Two pictures only ornamented the walls of the kiosk. 
One, that of a fine elderly gentleman in the uniform of an 
English officer, the other one younger, in plain clothes 
and side whiskers ; both unmistakably English. Seeing 
me look at them, she remarked that they were family 
portraits. She said the eldest was her father and the 
other her brother. I had already suspected the truth. 
The blue coat, shoulder-straps, and sword-knot of an 
admiral marked the rank of one who, in support of British 
naval supremacy, did but little less than Nelson himself ; 
while the plain clothes and side whiskers of the other 
may be seen any night upon the Government benches in 
the House of Lords. 

At last it being time to go, we arose and took leave of 
the polite lady, with a pressing request that if she should 
ever come to San Francisco she wOuld not fail, so long as 
she should remain in that quarter of the world, to make 
her home at our ancestral hall. This she promised to do. 
As we walked down the garden, she called out of the 
window to know if we fancied dogs and horses. If so, 
the Arab boy would do the honors which her lame ankle 
denied her the pleasure. Addressing him in Arabic, she 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



367 



gave the necessary orders, and we were taken to the 
stables, where not the least interesting thing were three 
or four beautiful gazelles which ran about the place as 
gentle as so many pet lambs. The mistress's favorite 
mare, and the one which had fallen with her two months 
before, was a fine English blood animal, looking quite up 
to the work of the race course. Three or four others as 
fine, and all evidently brought from England, attested 
the wealth and taste of the lady or her husband, Sheik 
Migael. Long may she reign Queen of Palmyra and the 
desert! 



CHAPTER XXXII. 



ABD-EL-KADER AND HIS HAREM. 



The stormy political events at the close of the year 
1860, followed by the secession of the South and the war 
of the rebellion, were affairs of so exciting a character, 
that the fact that five thousand Christians were at the 
same time butchered in Damascus by their next-door 
neighbors, living in the same town and brought up by 
their sides, was a matter scarcely noticed in the United 
States, and no doubt has passed from the recollec- 
tion of many of our people. Yet for three days and 
three nights did this modern St. Bartholomew rage in 
the narrow alleys, within and among the gardens that 
border the bright waters of Abana, the Christian quar- 
ter of that city. It was not a riotous battle in which 
blows were exchanged for blows, men raeeang men in 
deadly combat and in exchange for precious life dragging 
along with them the soul of many a foeman upon the voy- 
age across the dark waters that roll around the world. 
But it was the battle of the wolves with the lambs ; the 
hawk with the barn-yard fowl. The mother was slaugh- 
tered, but not until she had beheld the braining against 
the wall of the infant that had been torn from her breast." 
Husbands and fathers were forced to live till all this and 
more beside had been inflicted in their sight upon their 
wives and daughters. Demitri Cara, who marvelously 
escaped with his life, assured me that the least show of 
resistance would have saved half the lives that were 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



369 



slaughtered. But the notion prevailed that, by non-re- 
sistance, pity would take the place of ferocity, and the 
horrors be stayed; that, instead of fighting, the " cow- 
ardly Christians," as he termed them, actually held out 
their heads to have them cut off. The massacre at last 
st opped for want of material ; all had. been murdered or 
driven to the mountains. Further slaughter involved an 
amount of exertion beyond the habits and tastes of the 
Mussulman hunters. The game was excellent, the sport 
delightful, but the walk necessary to reach the preserves 
was too great to be performed. Turkish indolence for 
once took the appearance of virtue. Idlers became phi- 
lanthropists. The laziest men were the most merciful. 

Having murdered or driven to the mountains their 
Christian fellow-townsmen, the Mohammedans turned 
their attention to the property left behind. The wealthi- 
est Damascene merchants were among the slaughtered. 
The working of silver and gold is a craft known in the 
East only to the Christians. To the Moslem it is a hid- 
den mystery. First the silver and goldsmith bazaars and 
shops were plundered, then the banks and stores, the pri- 
vate houses and churches. When all had been appropri- 
ated worth stealing, the houses — the homes of a nation — 
were given, to the flames. The whole Christian quarter 
was burned to the ground. 

At last the extermination being supposed complete, 
the executioners made an estimate of the precious work, 
and finding it thorough, rested from their labors. They 
had much to congratulate themselves upon ; and their 
self-glorification was commensurate with the achievement 
performed. A race of turbulent unbelievers had been 
exterminated from the earth. JEsh Sham, the holy, was 
at last freed from a disgrace which had hung about her 
name from the day that the weak and wavering policy 
of the gentle Abu Obeidah was preferred to the more 
thorough and energetic measures of Khaled, the Sword 



370 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



of God. The true policy toward enemies of the faith 
had been after a delay of twelve hundred years re-estab- 
lished, and now it was to be forever in force. The 
Prophet had proclaimed but one rule : Let unbelievers 
have the choice between the Koran and the sword. This 
had been too long forgotten. One great step had been 
taken in the right direction. There were no more Chris- 
tians in Damascus. 

But, as is generally the case with those who vote to 
themselves a triumph, they over-estimated the work 
already done, and thought too little of what was left to 
do. They had not killed all the Christians in the world, 
nor had they even killed all that were then in Damascus. 
The terror which they had struck to the hearts of the 
wretches who were hiding among the caves and hanging 
rocks of anti-Lebanon, extended no farther. The Chris- 
tians of the West had not even heard of the great victory 
gained by Islam over the cause of Christ about the 
waters of Abana and Pharphar. But that they must 
hear of it was from the first inevitable, and that when 
properly represented to them speedy vengeance would 
follow, was just as natural a conclusion to any mind but 
that of an infatuated Mohammedan. Yet in all Damas- 
cus there was but one man holding the faitn of Islam, 
who understood the signs of the times, and who so 
directed his conduct as to be able to face the storm when 
it should burst. The name of this man is not unfamiliar 
even to the people of our part of the world. It was 
Abd-el-Kader. 

If believing in the faith of the impostor of Mecca im- 
plies cruelty and intolerance, every presumption was in 
favor of this man's proving to be the most cruel and bar- 
barous of all the horrid crew. Born in Africa, but of 
Arabian blood, he was as firm in the faith of Islam as the 
wildest dervish that ever danced at Cairo or howled at 
Stamboul ; and this was no new-born zeal, for at the age 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 371 



of eight years he had been conveyed by his father to 
Mecca upon the pilgrimage so dear to the heart of every 
true believer. And afterward, all through a most event- 
ful life, no decade was suffered to pass away without his 
making seven times the penitential circuit of the Kaaba, 
kissing the black stone, and bathing in the sacred well of 
Zemzem. Besides this, the green turban which he 
proudly wore, denoting his descent from the Prophet, 
made it his duty and his interest to stand as a defender 
of that faith which, founded by his family, had been its 
patent of nobility, and was the foundation of his claim 
to pre-eminence among men. But if stronger reasons to 
make him a zealous Mohammedan had been necessary, 
they existed in the fact that when a young man in his 
native land he had beheld a vision in which he was seated 
by the Prophet, his ancestor, in judgment over his people. 
And although the augury thus foreshadowed had proved 
delusive, and his country conquered and governed by the 
hand of the Christian stranger, yet he was still permit- 
ted to worship according to the rites of his fathers in 
Holy Damascus, and here each day in the great mosque, 
converted by the valor of his forefathers from a Christian 
basilica to a temple of Islam, he discoursed as a preacher 
to the faithful who attended the services therein. The 
warrior who had vainly risked his life to preserve the 
faith and freedom of his people was now content to do 
duty as a priest, and to uphold by such eloquence as he 
was master of, that religion which he could no longer de- 
fend with his sword. Indeed, it is not improbable that 
the long and bloody wars waged by Abd-el-Kader 
against the French were the schools in which he had 
learned those lessons of tolerance and mercy, the effects 
of which, as exhibited at Damascus, are destined to do 
more for his memory, when his history comes to be 
written, then his conduct in leading his victorious forces 
against Oran or in vainly defending Mascara, In these 



372 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



shocks of arms he had learned what it was to meet upon 
the field the invincible cohorts which march in the name 
of Christ. During the years of imprisonment in which 
he was held by the conquerors of his country he had 
beheld with his own eyes Christian law and order, indus- 
try, skill, and intelligence — the sources of that power 
before which he, with all the strength of a just cause, 
and with such aid as the true faith might afford him, 
had been driven from home and country and at last 
dragged away a prisoner, while his forces were extermi- 
nated or scattered in the trackless desert without hope 
of recovery. One of the first acts of the Prince Presi- 
dent of France, upon his coming to power, was the 
release of Abd-el Kader from prison. For several years 
past he had resided quietly in Damascus, in the enjoy- 
ment of an annuity from the French Government of a 
hundred and fifty thousand francs per annum. His house 
is one of the largest in the city, and here he lives sur- 
rounded by his family and protected by a little army of 
soldiers who have in former times followed his banners in 
the wars of Algeria. His state is quite princely, and more 
than equaling in grandeur that of the almost vice-regal 
Pasha of Damascus. His extensive palace, inclosed in 
substantial w T alls and defended by his Algerine veterans, 
enables him to have, when he chooses to exert it, great 
power and influence in all matters pertaining to the 
public conduct. 

No sooner had the cry of blood resounded through the 
streets and alleys of Damascus, in 1860, than the resolu- 
tion of the old hero was formed. His gates were closed 
to all but the proscribed creed. None but Christians 
might enter, and these found there security and protec- 
tion. His guards were posted at the doors and upon 
the house-top, with orders to defend the place with their 
lives. Then the old soldier sallied forth upon his work 
of mercy. Fortunate were those who could escape from 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



373 



the knives of the blood-hounds long enough to reach the 
hand of Abd-el-Kader, for here none dared pursue them. 
He, the Imaum of the mosque, rejoicing in the noble 
blood of the tribe of the Koreish, and entitled by his 
achievements in the field to the credit of a defender of 
the faith, was not to be scorned ; and whom he chose to 
cover with the mantle of his protection must pass freely. 
And thus the brave old fellow, day and night, traversed 
the narrow streets and dark alleys of Damascus, each 
with its spouting torrent of Christian gore, and brought 
to the haven of safety in his house, the strong men as 
well as the weeping women and. children of unbelieving 
infidels, enemies to his creed, but fellow-creatures. Be- 
fore the terrible affair was ended no less than six 
hundred, some say three thousand, unfortunates, were 
safely brought in and cared for, their wounds dressed and 
food and clothes furnished them. 

I may be pardoned, if I assume the reader to recollect, 
after seven years have elapsed, as little of this affair as I 
knew of it when I came to Damascus, and to remind him 
of the final result of the butchery of the Damascene 
Christians. How, when the news had traveled to the 
West, it produced that natural horror which it deserved, 
followed by the usual protests and diplomatic correspond- 
ence with the Sublime Porte. How, as might have been 
anticipated, words and tufts of grass produced their olden 
and long-established effect ; and how, after months of wait- 
ing, the French government, to its everlasting credit, 
marched a body of troops from Beyrout into the Coele- 
Syrian valley, menacing Damascus itself; and finally, 
how, when the matter became so very serious, the gov- 
ernor of Damascus, at the time of the massacre, Achmet 
Pasha, was, with over a hundred ringleaders, as they were 
called, first thrown into prison, and finally, no doubt 
greatly to their surprise, publicly put to death at the city 
gates, and the Christian quarter rebuilt — are matters 



374 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



which, when treated fully, require more space and time 
than I can give to them in this volume. 

I need not say that I was pleased when an invitation 
came to us that upon the next day, at an hour to be indi- 
cated by ourselves, I would be made welcome at the house 
of Abd-el-Kader, while my wife would be received by the 
ladies of his harem. It is the custom in the East not to 
inquire at what time it will be agreeable for the host to 
receive, but for the stranger to inform him at what hour 
it will be convenient to visit his mansion. We were 
pleased to name the hour of one as the most agreeable 
time to us, having first received a hint from our friend, 
the Turkish road-manager, who had undertaken the deli- 
cate task of negotiating the affair between the high con- 
tracting powers, that such hour would be the proper one 
to select. But there still lay in our track a not inconsid- 
erable difficulty. Our Turkish friend was ready and will- 
ing to accompany us and act as dragoman or interpreter 
between Abd-el-Kader and myself; but how was my wife 
to convey her ideas to the ladies ? Of course, no male 
creature ever thinks of invading the sanctity of the harem 
of a Moslem. So other means must be sought. It hap- 
pened that the day before we had paid a visit to the house 
of Demitri Schallouff, a Christian merchant, a native of 
Damascus, and one of the wealthiest people of the place. 
We had found his wife to be a young and remarkably 
handsome Egyptian woman, whom he had married but a 
few months before at Cairo and brought to his home in 
Damascus. Being a Christian, she had received an edu- 
cation quite superior to that ordinarily given to women 
in the East, and, among her accomplishments, spoke 
French with considerable fluency. She received us cross- 
legged in her garden, smoking a nargileh of gold, and 
sparkling with jewels. Three or four slaves who attended 
to her slightest wants, as well as the richness of her 
attire, the diamonds and pearls which covered her arms 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



375 



and head, witnessed the wealth or fondness of her hus- 
band. But she had married at thirteen, and was not 
much beyond that age now. The efforts to preserve the 
sedate demeanor of a matron struggling with the tempta- 
tion to behave naturally and child-like, was exceedingly 
amusing. She would converse for a moment with dig- 
nity, and then, as if the absurdness of the attempt was 
too much for her, she would suddenly turn her head and 
burst into a loud giggle of laughter. Now that we were 
to go to Abd-el Kader's, it was suggested that this wom- 
an be invited to go along as a visitor, like ourselves, but 
really to act as interpreter. 

Accordingly a messenger was sent off in the evening 
with the invitation. He soon returned with the reply 
that Sitt Schallouff would be most happy to comply, thus 
disposing most satisfactorily of a rather embarrassing 
question. At half-past twelve o'clock we mounted our 
donkeys and set off for the house of Demitri Schallouff, 
in order to take the lady with us. I found the Sitt in the 
very spot I had left her the day before, pulling away at 
her nargileh as if for dear life. No donkey was at the 
door, nor indeed any preparation for her going with us, 
except that she was dressed more splendidly and had 
on even more diamonds than upon our previous visit. 
Take a seat, Moosoo, she said in French, turning her head 
and hiding her face, with a loud giggle. Then she passed 
the stem of the nargileh and insisted with more giggling 
that I must smoke, but not a word of the visit to Abd-el- 
Kadcr's. I took a pull at the weed and then inquired if 
she was ready to go. She tried to look surprised, and 
then, hiding her head to laugh, asked where I wanted her 
to go. "To Abd-el-Kader's, according to our under- 
standing," u Oh, no ! She could not possibly go ; her 
dress was not fit to be seen at such a place. In short, 
she gave me to understand, amidst much tee-hee-ing and 
giggling, that she had nothing to wear. The lady was 



376 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



dressed in all the luxury and gorgeousness of the Orient. 
Her robe was of the richest Damascus silk, stiff with gold 
worked in its thread. The jewels that glittered upon her 
head and arms would have been the envy of the wealthiest 
dames of the West. True she had on no shoes, but that 
is not a serious omission in the toilet of a lady of Damas- 
cus. But it was the old story — she had nothing to wear. 
It was already late, and it is a great fault to keep people 
waiting in the East. I had a sort of notion that she 
wanted a little urging, so I pressed the matter with all 
my eloquence, but in vain. She declared the thing to be 
impossible in the state of her wardrobe. Reluctantly 
we rode olf, feeling that not only were we after time, 
but, that the lack of an interpreter would deprive the 
visit of half its interest. 

Fifteen minutes' ride brought us to the street of Abd- 
el-Kader's town. A great crowd of poor people, who it 
appears hang around his door, continuously depending 
upon the good man's charity for a support, were seated or 
standing about against the wall or in the street. Before 
we had time to dismount, an Arab boy came running after 
us shouting Sitt, Sitt, and pointing in the direction from 
which we had come. It was one of Demitri SchalloufTs 
people, and on looking back I saw the lady, his good wife, 
coming on a donkey at a little gallop accompanied by a 
mukarah and two maids. She had mounted her donkey 
almost as soon as ourselves and followed us. Like a child, 
as she was, she had held back only to be urged. I hastened 
to meet her, but when I got almost within speaking distance, 
as if frightened at what she was doing, she turned her don- 
key's head into a little side-alley, and hurried oiF for dear 
life, giggling all the while as if it was the funniest joke she 
had ever heard of in her life. Nor did I ever see her 
after, being too angry to go back to Demitri's to inquire 
what was the cause of such queer conduct. Fortunately 
it turned out that we were not late, as Abd-el-Kader had 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



377 



been detained a little beyond his usual time at the mosque, 
where he had preached that day. And as I rode back to 
the door I saw him coming home in great state, dressed 
in a long white burnoose and followed by ten or twelve 
Algerine soldiers, evidently selected for their prodigious 
stature. They were all, like their chief, clothed in flow- 
ing burnoose of white linen, the hoods being brought 
over their heads in place of the kefiyeh usually worn by 
Arabs, and each over six feet high. The procession stalked 
in at the door leading to the male part of the establish- 
ment, for the house is on two sides of the street, the 
harem being across the way from the offices of business 
and male receptions. The street, however, closes with a 
gate at each end, so that Abd-el-Kader has control of the 
whole grounds. When our party separated, according 
to etiquette, Abd-el-Kader remaining with me upon the 
divan of the reception-room, while his son by his first 
and eldest wife accompanied my wife to the harem. But 
her visit was, as might have been expected, a disappoint- 
ment. 

The oldest wife of an Eastern harem looks upon herself 
as the chief lady of the household, and any visit to the 
establishment is arrogated to herself. All the younger 
wives must keep out of the way unless specially called for 
by name. As might have been expected by one familiar 
with Oriental etiquette, but as we did not expect, her 
ladyship, Mrs. Abd-el-Kader No. 1, was found by my wife 
dressed in all the gorgeousness of Damascus silks and 
feathers and jewels sheen, seated in state upon a divan 
prepared to do the honors for herself and lord, but with 
no intention of calling into notice any of the little upstart 
" chits" whom her husband had, pursuant to the weaker 
calls of his nature, raised to a position beyond their deserts 
by placing them in his harem. The son of this wife acted 
as interpreter. But had any of the other wives been 
called for he must, according to rule, have immediately left 



378 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the harem. Each wife has her separate apartments, ser- 
vants, and establishment. After waiting for an hour, 
and almost dying with curiosity, as any lady reader may 
well understand, hoping to see the younger wives, or, at 
least, some who might be supposed to owe their position 
to some right beside that of seniority, she at last gave it 
up in despair, and took leave of the old lady who ruled 
Abd-el-Kader's house, if not his heart. 

In the mean time, I had been treated in the usual man- 
ner to coffee and sweetmeats. Then a conversation en- 
sued, in which we passed mutual compliments in the Ori- 
ental style. The old fellow had heard of my prowess in 
war, as well as my wisdom at the council board. That 
my enemies trembled at my approach, was not so much 
an evidence of their cowardice as a consciousness of my 
valor and an understanding of their relative weakness. 
That this must be for them an hour of bland repose, to 
be only disturbed by my speedy return, which he trusted 
would be safe and early. I had the advantage of my 
host, for I could name the chieftain with whom he had 
measured arms, while he had to deal in glittering gener- 
alities when he referred to my prowess, which, however, 
in general terms he placed as immeasurably beyond his 
own. I referred to the French generals Changarnier and 
Pelissier, to Cavignac and Canrobert, whom I knew had 
operated in Algeria. I then inquired about the exploit 
of one of those worthies in destroying a whole tribe of 
Arabs — men, women, and children — by burning them to 
death in a cave, a fact familiar to the most casual reader 
of the newspapers of the day. He was delighted at my 
knowledge of his history, and went into many interesting 
particulars. He had heard of my country, he said. In 
fact he had had some indirect acquaintance with its chief 
ruler ; that some years ago he had had the good fortune 
to save the lives of some Christians in Damascus who 
were attacked by a mob of misguided people ; that this 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



379 



afterward in some manner came to the knowledge of the 
potentate of my country, who being a Christian himself, 
was greatly pleased with his conduct, and had presented 
him with a handsome testimonial of his good opinion. 
That his name was Lin-koon, but he was sorry to hear 
since of his death. He hoped it was not true, as he be- 
lieved him to be a good man. " Did I know him, and 
and was he still living, or was he dead ?" I confessed 
that I was not personally acquainted with the ruler of 
whom he spoke; that he resided at a great distance from 
my part of the country, and that I had never even so 
much as seen him. I also confirmed the rumor of his 
death, and joined with him in testifying the sorrow which 
we felt in common for the loss of a good man. 

Having spent a pleasant hour with Abd-el-Kader, we 
remounted our donkeys and retired to Demitri Cara's 
hotel, highly pleased with what we had seen, but some- 
what disappointed at some things which he had not 
seen. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 



HAKKIM MICHAEL MASCHAEKA. 



The banner of Stars and Stripes floats gracefully in the 
breezes of Damascus, from the house-top of Hakkim 
Michael Mascharka. Why we should have a consular 
agent here is a matter worthy of being known, for it is 
not without its mysteries. If the fact of haviDg such an 
official is a sort of a riddle to us, it is, perhaps, equally as 
much a matter of wonder to the Hakkim himself. The 
only rational explanation is this : Almost the most dan- 
gerous position in an Oriental community is that of being 
understood to possess wealth. Certain conditions may, 
however, be added to this, tending to increase the hazard. 
Among these is that of holding to the Christian faith. 
A rich Christian, residing in a Moslem city, is to the 
pasha much such a temptation as a tree of ripe cherries, 
inclosed by a very low fence, is to a Sunday-School boy; 
he never passes it without the water running out of the 
corners of his mouth ; and the very first chance he gets 
his tooth enters the luscious morsel. But the holding 
of any kind of consular appointment places the poor 
fellow in quite a different position. He is immediately 
independent of the authority of the pasha and his myr- 
midons. True, he has nothing to do and gets nothing for 
doing it ; but he is safe, a by no means trifling matter in 
a place where the bastinado is carried about by the tux- 
collector, and where the only assessment of public dues 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



381 



necessary is a showing of the fact that the subject has 
the ability to pay. 

This rule applies to ordinary towns. But in a place 
like Damascus, the hot-bed of Eastern bigotry, where all 
holding to the proscribed religion are kept in constant dan- 
ger of death, the position of consul of any State, whether 
it be France or the United States, Lichtenstein or Para- 
guay, is sought after, and even paid for at a high price if 
the appointing power be sufficiently corrupt to accept it. 
It appears strange, at a first glance, that after such an 
ordeal as the massacre of the Christians in 1860 any 
of that people would be found residing among the 
murderers of their brothers and sisters, at least so soon 
after the happening of that frightful event. Yet the 
explanation is met with in the universal conduct of the 
massacred in parallel cases. The son goes to sea in the 
same ship from the decks of which his father was washed. 
The miner descends daily to the depths of the identical 
pit where his brothers and friends were consumed by 
explosive gases. Great populous cities rest upon the lava 
foundations of Herculaneum, and. fuming Solfatara is 
exhibited to the wondering traveler by a descendant or 
survivor of the destroyed village at its base. That which 
has happened may happen again, and it may not, or at 
least it may not in my time, is alike the argument of the 
miner, the sailor, the villager, and the Christian. 

These consular agents are appointed by the consuls- 
general at the great central points like Constantinople, 
Alexandria, or Beyrout. They hold no direct communi- 
cation with the Government, but report to those who 
appoint them. So highly esteemed are these dignities, 
that Mr. Johnson, consul at Beyrout, who has the appoint- 
ing of several of them, finds much of his time taken up 
in the examination of their respective claims. If he 
would sell them he could do so, he told me, and at a good 
price ; for the wealthy at the East take early and frequent 



382 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

lessons in the art of corrupting the sources of power. 
When appointed nothing remains to be done except to 
procure a flag and the uniforms of the office. Of course 
none of the appointees can speak the language of the 
power they represent, nor do they generally have much 
idea of its position on the globe, its importance, its con- 
stitution, or manners and customs. The consular agent 
for the Republic of the United States of Columbia does 
not know whether he should claim precedence or give 
place to that of the United Stat es of America, nor does 
that dignitary possess more knowledge upon the same 
subject than his neighbor. Each knows that he has 
gained the point he aimed at — local independence — and 
is satisfied. 

We called upon our representative, Hakkim Mascharka. 
His house is in the Christian quarter, and reached by trav- 
ersing a line of streets and alleys so narrow and crooked 
and so dirty that before reaching it we had almost turned 
back in disgust. The door or entrance was as narrow and 
mean, and set in as rough and unprepossessing a dead 
wall as any we had passed in the whole journey. But 
once through it, and the whole scene was changed as if 
by a touch of the hand of enchantment. The inner court 
is at least eighty feet square, and on the four sides of this 
the house fronts, windows and balconies opening from 
above, and open arcades with cooling fountains and 
luxurious divans below. A great fountain spouts spark- 
ling waters in the center, and the marble pavement is 
everywhere protected from the sun's rays by orange and 
lemon, peach and plum trees. An Arab cavasse, dressed 
in flowing trousers and fez, with two great flint-lock pis- 
tols in his red sash, and swinging cimeter at his side, met 
us at the door and conducted us to the reception-room 
upon the ground-floor. He was cavasse to the American 
consulate, and though he may have had a very indistinct 
idea of the geographical position of that power, his want 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



383 



of knowledge did not, in my judgment, detract in the 
least from the loftiness of his bearing. The dignity of 
our nation will not suffer by any omission on the part of 
its cavasse at Damascus. With a wave of his hand he 
sent three or four inferior servants flying across the court 
in the direction of the kitchen. There soon came back 
one bearing the coffee urn, a second the cups on a tray, 
and three or four others, respectively, with plates of can- 
died plums, oranges, and sweetmeats. The ordinary 
lackeys were not permitted, to deal out these delicacies 
to the guests. But the portly cavasse took upon himself 
the post of honor. Pouring out the little thimble-cups 
of Arabic coffee, he first passed them around to each, and 
then followed it up with the sweetmeats. ~No plate 
is used in the distribution of them. It is the custom to 
take them up upon the point of a fork, each guest being 
provided with one of these instruments, which are passed 
around separately for that purpose. 

The refreshment concluded, the Hakkim entered. The 
hospitalities of an Oriental mansion are not delayed 
because of the absence of the host. It is considered 
an evidence of his bounty that his servants shall, with- 
out orders, serve refreshments the instant a visitor 
arrives. The consul of the United States - at Damascus 
is a venerable old gentleman of sixty, with white hair 
and beard. His son, a youth of nineteen, accompanied 
him, and to our surprise spoke with considerable facility 
the English language. We had upon our arrival, seated 
ourselves in chairs, about the floor of the room, and were 
so resting when the Hakkim came in. The place of honor 
in the room of an Oriental house, is always at the end 
farthest from the door, which is elevated two feet higher 
than the main floor. There a divan is raised against the 
wall, and guests are expected to sit upon it, having first 
removed their shoes and laid them at the edge of the 
raised platform. The old man was shocked at finding us 



384 GOIJSTG TO JERICHO; OR, 



seated below, in the place reserved for servants only. 
He insisted politely upon our ascending the platform and 
occupying the divan. The son admitted that his father 
understood that we did not consider our dignity compro- 
mised by a seat on the main floor, but he said that his 
father was old and could not get accustomed to such in- 
novations ; that our seat there would render him uncom- 
fortable during our stay. We yielded and mounted the 
platform, first offering to remove our shoes, according to 
Eastern etiquette, but this the Hakkim objected to our 
doing. His son explained, that being an American con- 
sul, he acted in this respect according to the custom of 
the people whose country he represented. 

Pipes were brought in, the cavasse lugging in a great 
nargileh and stem already charged for operation, but none 
of us smoked the nargileh. Hakkim Mascharka then pro- 
duced a school-atlas evidently got up in America for the 
Missions in Syria. The names of the countries, towns, 
etc., being laid down in Arabic. Opening it at the map 
of the United States he pointed to the country of which 
he was consul with high glee ; showing pride. I thought, 
not so much in the nation itself, as at his own learning in 
the science of geography. " What part are you from ?" 
he inquired, through his son. I indicated with my finger 
San Francisco. He had never seen any one before from 
that side of the continent. u Several had called from this 
side," he said, pointing out the Atlantic coast. With a 
pen he noted the place of my residence as he had already 
done those of the others from the Atlantic coast who 
were there before me. The cavasse now announced that 
the ladies were coming ; and so they did with a great 
clatter, marching across the paved court mounted upon 
pattens, that added at least six inches to their stature. 
Leaving the little benches at the door, two ladies, the 
wives of the father and son, entered the room and marched 
up to the platform, we all rising and standing up to re- 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 



385 



ceive them. The son had been married but a few months 
to a lady of twelve years, and the prettiest I have seen 
in the East. But it must be borne in mind that the face 
of no Oriental lady is ever seen by a stranger in public. 
The opportunities of the traveler for forming an opinion 
upon their looks are therefore of the most limited char- 
acter. They were dressed in elegant silk robes, their 
forehead and arms covered witli diamonds, but, as usual, 
they had no shoes upon their feet, the wooden benches 
left without the door being the only substitute for shoes 
worn by the ladies. The old lady w r as a Damascene, her 
husband a Greek. She was evidently proud of the Hak- 
kim's learning, for at her suggestion he wrote his name 
upon a card and gave it to us as a souvenir, asking us in 
return for ours. But when we asked the cards of the 
ladies, we were told with no apparent hesitation, that 
neither of them could write, it not being customary to 
teach women that accomplishment in the East ; but said 
the young man, " I am teaching my wife to read and 
write in accordance with the American custom." I hope 
it was something more lasting than a mere honeymoon 
promise, and that the pretty young creature will be an 
exception to the usual Oriental ignorance. She blushed 
and denied her capacity to learn when we complimented 
her upon her approaching erudition, but it was evident 
she was grateful to her lord for making her case an 
exceptional one. 

We have found it to be the custom of servants in 
Damascus to follow guests to the door of their master's 
house with claims for backshish ; whether or not this be 
with the permission of those in authority, I know not, 
but suspect it to be, because the Hakkim took care to 
follow us quite into the street, under pretense of bidding 
us a more cordial adieu, but in reality I suspect to see us 
safely through the hostile territory, and free from the 
importunities of his own retainers. 

17 * awp 



CHAPTER XXXIY. 



THE BASS-WOOD PREACHER. 



A very considerable number of ministers of the gos- 
pel, American as well as English, are to be found at all 
times making the tour of Syria and Palestine. The com- 
pany of these, as a general rule, is exceedingly interesting 
to the lay tourist. There is no guide-book for the Holy 
Land at all to compare with the Bible, nor can any com- 
panion be so interesting as one whose mind is stored with 
knowledge of that sacred book. At Alexandria we fell 
in with a clerical gentleman from somewhere out West, 
who, being unmarried, was naturally traveling alone. 
Having arrived about the same time we all drifted along 
together up to Cairo. Our ship's company was made up 
in part of rather a gay set of pleasure-seekers, many of 
whom thought more of dress than they did of what they 
were to see and learn by travel. The clerical gentleman 
of whom I write, by some chance, failed to make himself 
agreeable to a considerable portion of the company of 
American and English travelers. All sorts of objections 
were urged against him : that he was mean ; that he was 
slouchy; that he was over-assuming and conceited; that 
he was ugly and ill-mannered, and that he was ignorant. 
And as a complete summing up of the opinion of all, he 
was called the " Bass-wood Preacher," and by that name 
known among the travelers. I suspect the real trouble 
to have been that the poor fellow was making the tour 
upon some extremely small allowance of money, and had 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



387 



to study all sorts of shifts and contrivances to get through 
the country. If a party was to be made up to visit the 
pyramids, ancient Memphis, or Suez, the minister was 
always anxious to be invited, and contrived to be along. 
Why this should be objected to I could not see, but it 
generally was by some one or another, and the persons 
who consented to his going could never apparently justify 
the act except to, in a weak manner, excuse it on the 
ground of overwhelming necessity. He knew it was bad, 
but how could he help it. 

But at last the " Bass-wood Preacher " appeared to 
take the hint, and kept away from the parties who had 
made the objection, and, without any apparent design, 
fell into my company. I soon found that, while the most 
of the objections which had been made to him were v ell 
taken, he was, after all, by no means a bad traveling com- 
panion. He was mean, but I am not generous myself, 
and am inclined to think that if I had been as poor as I 
suspect the " Bass-wood Preacher " to have been, I should 
have been even meaner than he was. As for his manners, 
they were good enough for a preacher, and as long as he 
was not a candidate for admission to the club, they were 
quite sufficient. There remained but the general objec- 
tion to his profession. And serious as this may be, I think 
it must be confessed that, after all, there are worse people 
in the world than preachers. I should have had more of 
his society, but for the most perverse habit he had of 
loitering on his way, dropping behind in the line of march, 
whenever or wherever he saw the slightest prospect of a 
chance to exercise his vocation. At Ramleh he turned up 
among the missing. It was understood that he was to 
preach at Jaffa. At Jerusalem it was the same thing. 
At Damascus he could not be found for several days. He 
had waited over to wrestle with the heathens of Beyrout. 
Unspeakably absurd as the proceeding appeared to me, 
for I had not seen a soul in any one of the places whose 



38S GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



salvation would in my mind have justified an expenditure 
of two paras of their own worthless money — yet the par- 
son was so evidently sincere and unselfish in the matter 
that I could scarcely find fault with him. 

Three or four days after we reached Damascus he came 
bouncing along on the top of the diligence, in the midst 
of seventeen of the dirtiest Arabs that it had been up to 
that time my lot to contemplate, and looking as happy as 
a king. The first thing he asked was to be conducted to 
the " street called Straight." This I was fully capable of 
doing. I had been in Damascus four days, and with the 
versatility of taste and temperament which is the only 
true foundation upon which to construct the genuine cos- 
mopolitan, had already adopted to a considerable extent 
the manners and customs of the natives. I had bought 
a red fez with black silk tassel, had learned to smoke the 
nargileh ; I had eaten at a Damascus restaurant, and had 
loitered on the banks of the Abana at a Damascus fete ; 
I had learned the words and music of the muezzin call, 
and was at that moment seriously contemplating attach- 
ing myself, temporarily of course, to the religion of the 
country. Had a m ssacre of Christians taken place, it is 
quite doubtful how I should have thrown my influence. 
The most the Christians could have hoped for from us 
would have been a strict and honorable neutrality. I, 
however, acted with entire freedom from bias or preju- 
dice in respect to my friend's faith, and conducted him 
loyally to the various Christian shrines and sacred places 
to " the street called Straight," to the houses of Ananias, 
of Judas, and of Naaman, and to the scene of St. Paul's 
conversion, as well as to Bab Kisan, where he was let 
down from the wall. 

At the house of Judas an incident occurred which quite 
ruffled the temper of the minister, and which I must my- 
self confess I would not like to see repeated. It may not 
be out of place to mention, for the benefit of the reader 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



389 



who may be unlearned in Bible lore, that Judas was the 
man with whom Saul of Tarsus, after the miracle of his 
conversion, tarried at Damascus, and it was to his house 
that Ananias was commanded in the vision to go and find, 
and restore to sight, the stricken gentile. This house still 
stands in " the street called Straight," but is now, and 
perhaps for ages past has been, used as a Mohammedan 
mosque. With a zeal, which, after all, in a minister, is 
entirely pardonable, my friend was exceedingly desirous 
to see something of this house. I had passed it a dozen 
times, and was quite satisfied in that respect; but the 
minister wanted to go inside. The great mosque is the 
only one in Damascus to visit which firmans are granted, 
and this reluctantly and upon ever-varying conditions, the 
privilege at times being entirely withdrawn. As for the 
smaller mosques, no unbeliever ever passes their portals. 
We walked together down to the door, and stood in front 
looking at it. We jointly deplored that spirit of intol- 
erance which denied to the Christian the poor privilege 
of entering and gazing upon a spot sanctified by the 
memory of scenes so important in the history of his 
faith. Although a Damascene and a Mohammedan, I 
was free to say that I could not support my co-religion- 
ists, temporary though our relations were, in any tiling 
resembling a spirit of narrow bigotry. We drew nearer 
to the door, so that we could see what was going on 
inside. A dozen or more swarthy Bedouins were wash- 
ing their legs at the stone basin in the center, three or 
four were kneeling and bobbing up and down in prayer 
at the Mihrab on the south side, while a half-dozen sport- 
ive youths of ten years, or thereabouts, were amusing 
themselves with childish games about the pavement 
generally. I told my friend that I believed that I would 
at this point act as did England and Spain in the Mexican 
intervention affair. I had u seen enough," and would 
respectfully withdraw from the expedition. That, in the 



390 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



first place, not having on my Eastern costume, I was stand- 
ing there clothed in Christian apparel, and occupying, for 
the time being, a false position, calculated to lead to a mis^ 
construction of my motives ; that, in the second place, my 
appearing at the mosque door in company with a Chris- 
tian tended to bring me into disrepute among my breth- 
ren ; and that, lastly, the pious and prayerful Moslems, 
who were testifying to the greatness of God and the 
sacred office of Mohammed within the mosque, were not 
cosmopolitans like myself, and that he must not expect to 
receive from them that toleration which he could of 
course rely upon always obtaining at the hands of liberal- 
minded adversaries like myself. In short, that his standing 
about the door of the sacred place might be objected to 
by the devout inmates, and violence ensue — a result 
which, while I would greatly deplore its appearance of 
bigotry, I should be utterly powerless to obviate. Saying 
this, I strolled slowly along the grocers' bazaar, looking 
at the dried beans and oil-pots which are there exposed 
for sale. 

My friend could not give up the contest. He still 
stayed about the portal of the mosque, getting constantly 
a little and a little nearer, till at last he was quite within, 
so that he could survey the whole interior of the building. 
But I did not long lose sight of his form ; for almost as 
soon as he was inside, he came down the bazaar as fast as 
his legs could carry him, at the same time holding one of 
his hands up to his face. And fast as he flew down the 
street, the small stones, pieces of dirt, and rotten oranges 
came faster than his retreating steps. I understood in 
an instant the catastrophe which had occurred. The 
pious but cunning youths, who appeared to be wholly 
absorbed in their infantile sports, had in reality been 
merely lying in wait till the curiosity of the Giaour should 
draw him over the line permitted to unbelievers, in order 
to get a legitimate shot at him, and not more than his toe 



SKETCHES OF TEA V EL. 391 



had probably passed this line when the attack began. 
One orange had hit him full in the eye, another took the 
side of his face, while a third exhausted its force and de- 
posited its juices upon the center of his retreating back. 
" What do you think of that ?" said the enraged minister. 
I was obliged to confess that I regretted that the pious 
youths had not restrained themselves — that I could 
neither jus-tify the act upon the grounds of justice or 
sound policy ; that such proceedings were not calculated 
to advance the true faith, either by propitiating an op- 
ponent or converting a doubting mind ; that tendency was 
rather to harden the infidel in his unbelief. " But," said 
I, " there is this mitigating circumstance in the whole affair 
— neither those youths, who have committed this outbreak 
of religious violence, nor the Bedouins, who are upholding 
them in it at this moment, by standing at the door grin- 
ning at us, have ever traveled beyond these native 
valleys. It is natural, therefore, that they should lack 
that spirit of tolerance which the citizen of the world can 
alone hold in all its vigor and beauty." But I must con- 
fess that all that I could say in extenuation of the conduct 
of the indiscreet young Moslems was not only wholly in- 
adequate to the task of satisfying the minister that he had 
not been treated with extraordinary severity, but it also 
failed to remove a fixed belief, which appeared to have 
obtained possession of his mind, that the whole Moslem 
faith was responsible for the outrage, and should be treated 
accordingly. / 

From the house of Judas it is but a short distance to 
the Moslem cemeteries within the walls, and in this direc- 
tion we turned our footsteps, passing through the Bcib-es- 
saghir. The cemetery is a Mohammedan Bowling 
Green. There all festivities are held, public and private. 
There families resort upon holidays, and in these the wan- 
dering lovers stroll to exchange vows of undying faith. 
A forest of tombstones covers the undulating ground of 



392 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the great cemetery of Bab-es-saghir. These are inter- 
spersed with fantastic wooden structures and graceful 
cupolas. The graves are neat and trim, but the total lack 
of grass or herbage about them, gives the whole an air of 
barren desolation not in keeping with our notions of a 
place of burial. Each grave is covered with a little 
oblong roof-shaped mound of brick or mud, and all are 
whitewashed. An upright stone stands at the head of 
each, surmounted generally by a carved turban, and 
always with an Arabic inscription setting forth the name, 
age, and degree of the deceased, followed by some favor- 
ite selection from the Koran. Beside this is a cavity id 
the stone for water, and in this a fresh and green sprig of 
myrtle is stuck by the relative on each Friday. On that 
day it is very interesting to see the crowds of well-dressed 
people, mostly women, who come each with her vessel of 
water and branch of green myrtle as an offering to the 
shade of the departed. It happened to be Friday when 
the minister and myself strolled into the cemetery — hun- 
dreds of women sat about in groups, talking and laugh- 
ing, or singly, at the head of some tomb, praying or 
weeping. But little apparent attention was paid to our 
advent, for women are forbidden by etiquette to exhibit 
curiosity as men may do. There are several tombs in the 
cemetery of Bab-es-saghir, which, if not remarkable for 
architectural beauty, deserve attention for the historical 
importance of their occupants. Here lies the tierce and 
impetuous Moawyeh, whose success in breaking the line 
of the " perfect caliphate," dividing the empire, and pro- 
ducing the first schism in Islam, always proves such a 
shock to the sympathies of the reader of Arabian history, 
a sympathy founded not upon tenderness for the doctrines 
of the false Prophet of Mecca, or dislike to the first of 
the Omeiyades, but from sorrow for the hard fate which 
fell to the lot of the brave, the noble, and the generous 
Ali, the Lion of God. Hard by the tomb of Moawyeh, 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



393 



as if in solemn reproof of the ambition which deprived her 
house of if.s heritage, rests in peace Fatimeh, the daughter 
of Mohammed, and wife of Ali, whose name, in the keep- 
ing of a sect of the faithful, is revered from India to the 
Atlantic Ocean. Three wives of Mohammed also do 
credit to the importance of the great cemetery of Damas- 
cus. But as neither Cadijah, the companion of his youth, 
nor Ayesha, the beautiful and imperious mother of the 
faithful, are among the number, we sought them not, but 
contented ourselves with visiting that of the unfortunate 
wife of Ali. Removing our shoes, we passed through a 
simple door into a room twenty feet square, where a large 
stone coffer, resting upon blocks of the same material, 
contains the dust of Fatimeh. Lamps of silver suspended 
at each of the four corners continue, after twelve hun- 
dred years of duration, to fill the air with the sweet fra- 
grance of sandal-wood, and the elegant carpet of Persian 
fabric which covers the floor, as well as the air of comfort 
in the tomb equal to that of a room in the best house in 
Damascus, proves her memory to be still freshly kept by 
her posterity. 

Leaving the cemetery, we returned to the city. Here 
mounting donkeys, we rode out by the gate Bab Faradis 
on our way to the summit of the lofty hill Kubbet en- 
Nasr — the Dome of Victory — which overlooks Damascus 
and the great valley in which the city lies. A long, 
straggling village called Salahiyeh lies along the base of 
the mountain, and only terminates where the abrupt cliff 
breaks down in the gorge through which the Barada 
pours its sparkling flood into the plain. The road from 
the wall of Damascus up to Salahiyeh is a narrow paved 
lane, looking more like an uncovered stone sewer than a 
road traversing a rich country. But the boughs of the 
overhanging apricot and plum trees, all fragrant with 
young blossoms, were quite enough to satisfy us that the 
beauties of Damascus were not being abandoned, We 

17* 



394 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



did not stop at the village. The people were friendly 
enough, but the dogs appeared anxious to vindicate their 
title to being considered curs of the true faith , and not 
Christian Giaours, such as we were. They therefore ran 
after us, barking, yelping, and snarling, with true Moslem 
vehemence, to the manifest delight of all the little boys, 
and no doubt not to the dissatisfaction of the true believ- 
ers of a larger growth. I fancied that they were more 
fierce in their demonstrations of dislike toward my com- 
panion than toward myself, and suggested the difference 
to him. He replied that he hoped it was true, as the 
more such people and their dogs disliked him, the greater 
proof would he consider it to be of his own worthiness. 
I passed over the remark without comment, feeling that 
he had been treated harshly in the morning. We stopped 
a half hour at Kubbet en-Nasr, enjoying the fine view of 
Damascus and its rich valley, and tracing out the Phar- 
phar and Abana along their winding courses to the 
Desert Lakes, in which their waters sink or evaporate 
away. 

The mukarahs, or donkey-boys, who had conducted us 
to this point, had not performed their duty toward us in 
an altogether satisfactory manner. It is their especial 
business to follow close behind the donkey, and drive him 
up to a reasonable rate of speed. Unless this department 
is properly attended to, the little animal feels that he may 
choose his own gait, which soon graduates into an ex- 
tremely slow walk. In fact, after going a certain distance, 
they will come to a dead stop, and will not move till the 
mukarah comes to the rescue. It is astonishing how per- 
fectly they are under the control of the boys, and how 
helpless the rider is when the boy is absent or inattentive. 
In coming up to Salahiyeh, the boys had more than once 
dropped behind, as we would turn a corner, and for a 
time be lost sight of. The little beggars, neither of whom 
were over ten years of age, were amusing themselves by 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



395 



catching frogs in the little pools by the way-side, and 
while this sport was going on our donkeys would fall into 
a snail's pace. We would accommodate ourselves to this 
pace by sitting carelessly upon the saddle, but I found it 
to be a dangerous business, for at any moment, without 
to us the slightest warning, the little things would sud- 
denly prick up their ears and scamper off like a flock of 
sheep, at a great rate, for forty or fifty yards, and then 
stop as quick and with as little notice as they had started. 
The consequence was that I got two falls without under- 
standing the cause of the queer stampede of the donkeys. 
At last I learned the secret. The boys, when they would 
stop their frog- catching, would start on a run to overtake 
us, giving their usual cry, a sort of a screech, more like 
that of a bird than any human sound. The donkeys 
hearing this, would set off upon a sudden scamper, well 
calculated to unsea't a negligent rider. I have seen a 
whole cavalcade of a dozen ladies and gentlemen flounder- 
ing in4he road, thrown off by the sudden start of these 
donkeys upon hearing the boys screeching to them as 
they came down with a run. At the village our muka- 
rahs also showed bad faith toward us in joining with the 
little heathens of Salahiyeh, in giving laughing approval to 
the onslaught upon us of the dogs. And not content 
with this disloyalty, the little wretches fraternized with 
the urchins of that village, and joined their festive 
games, leaving us to reach the top of the mountain the 
best way we could, and which, of course, was very slow 
progress. All this might have given us a hint of the true 
character of the knaves, had we thought more deeply of 
the matter, but we attributed the misconduct to the 
natural thoughtlessness of youth. 

But at a point half way between the village and Bab- 
es-Salahiyeh, their villainy reached its last great crowning 
act. There they stopped and refused to go farther with- 
out backshish. " Pooh !" said the minister, when be 



396 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

understood the nature of the atrocious demand, 44 back- 
shish to be sure. Not a piaster ! Not a para ! Not a red 
cent ! Never ! We will pay what we agreed to pay, and 
no more !" Now the fact was that my companion had 
made the contract at a fixed sum by the hour, and which 
was at a rate much lower than I had ever been able to 
procure donkeys in Damascus. Besides, he rather prided 
himself upon being able to get these animals at a price 
nearer the real amount ordinarily charged to natives of 
the country, than I could do. And, in fact, he had been 
able to get them so low that I could well afford to pay 
for an extra donkey for him, and then get the whole for 
much less than I could have engaged a smaller number 
of animals. His pride was therefore enlisted in the 
matter. The boys would get no backshish. There was 
a matter of principle involved. We would go to town 
without them. This we tried to do, but in vain; the 
sagacious brutes took sides with the boys and would not 
stir a step. My friend got off and tried to catch a boy, 
but he plunged through the stream of water in which he 
had been hunting frogs, and mounted the wall on the 
other side. Here in safety he sat grinning and demand- 
ing backshish. We were paying by the hour and could 
not afford to stand out, so at last I consented, and the 
dispute was compromised. I paid a few paras, and the 
boys resumed duty. The strike was brought to an end, 
and we made our way to Damascus. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 



THE ARTESIAN WELL AT PASSY. 

Within four miles of Damascus, three different locali- 
ties are pointed out, each claiming to be the identical spot 
upon which was wrought the miraculous conversion of 
St. Paul. One is beneath a queer sort of arched rock, a 
half-mile from Bab Shurkey, and being the most conve- 
niently situated to the city, is now altogether the most 
generally patronized. To this I went on foot, in company 
with the young Christian Damascene, mentioned in a 
former chapter. And as it is the custom of Christians to 
stoop down and crawl under the arch, under some sort of 
traditional promise of plenary indulgences, of great value 
to those who do so with a contrite heart, I, with such 
contrition as I could muster at so short a notice, crept 
through in company with my new-found friend. A lame 
back and damaged trousers were the only apparent results 
of the penance, but I am not without hope that at some 
future time — perhaps when I least expect it — great spirit- 
ual good may accrue to me. But there was still another 
spot claiming to be the scene of the miraculous conver- 
sion of the persecutor and champion of the early church. 
It is on the plain, at the foot of the mountain Jebel-el- 
Azumd, upon the road to Jerusalem, and within view of 
the city, but three or four miles away. 

Many readers may ask the question, why visit a place 
possessing no natural interest, especially when that spot is 
difficult of access ? Inasmuch as both or all the scenes of 



398 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the conversion of St. Paul are admittedly doubtful and ever 
shifting, why not visit the one the most accessible, and let 
that suffice ? If that question be asked by any, it will be by 
some one who has never traveled. For before one has trav- 
eled three weeks, the discovery is made, that if one omits 
visiting any place in Europe, Asia, or Africa, whether it 
be .on the line of travel, or off — whether it be city, town, 
village, or hamlet, ancient castle or modern villa, museum 
of art, battle-field, royal residence, or scene of miraculous 
works of Divinity, he makes the omission at the peril of 
his reputation as a traveler. And he must be prepared 
to undergo the contempt of every tourist who, whether 
by accident or design, has reached or drifted to the spot 
omitted. For example : you meet Mr. Jones on the piazza 
of the Grand Hotel Victoria, in Geneva ; you shake 
hands and compare notes. "Ah! been to Germany?" 
says Jones ; " glad to hear it. Fine country is Germany. 
Of course you went to Veiner Snitzel ! No ! Good 
heavens ! You don't say you've left out that delightful 
place ! The most exquisite spot in all Europe. Why, my 
dear sir, without Veiner Snitzel ! your whole visit is lost. 
Beautiful place in the Schwabhausen, within two hours' 
ride of Zwei-Lager, the seat of the Grand Duke of Sauer- 
Kraut-mit-Speck. You can see the old Grand Duke walk- 
ing out every morning, and stand as near to him as I am 
to you now. It's too bad that you missed Veiner Snitzel," 
says Jones, and he walks off with absolute pity portrayed 
upon every line of his face. Now, the real fact is, that he 
reached Veiner Snitzel himself by the purest accident of 
getting into the wrong train. But that does not alter 
the case in the least. He has been to a place that you 
have not been to, and, of course, that is the place of all 
others to be visited. This scene is occurring at every 
step until the tourist gets up to the thing, and takes care 
to go to all the places, or at least to declare he has been 
there, when any one makes the inquiry. I have made it a 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 399 



rule in my journeyings to do each place thoroughly, and 
thus be prepared for the Joneses at all points. And 
often I have done this at no little expense and personal 
inconvenience. 

One instauce occurs to me at this moment, which I 
think is especially in point, supporting and illustrating 
the motive of our visit to the scene of St. Paul's conver- 
sion, I was sitting in the great court of the Grand Hotel 
at Paris one day last year, ruminating upon matters and 
tilings in general, when who should walk in but my 
friend General C. In this connection it is necessary for 
me to say that he, like myself, visited Europe not so much 
for the purpose of its purchase as with the object of 
enlarging bis ideas and polishing his manners, with the 
ultimate design of becoming a member of the Pacific Club. 
With this object constantly before our eyes, we had spent 
the last two months in the gayest capital of Europe, and 
had seen and done every thing that should or could, as we 
thought, be done or seen in the least tending to accom- 
plish for us respectively the particular effects which. we 
thought necessary — that is to say, in his case, the expan- 
sion of his ideas upon the great public questions ; with 
me, the toning down of the rough points in my personal 
demeanor. In short, I felt that it was in the matter of 
deportment that I was lacking, and to this were my eiforts 
naturally directed. Having finished Paris, as we thought, 
it was our design to set out together upon the following 
day for Spain. 

"What are you drinking?" inquired the General, 
looking curiously at the glass upon the table before me. 
" Eau Sucree," I replied. " Oh, what ? " said he. " Eau 
Sucree^ I repeated. "Do you not drink it?" "No! 
Never heard of it before." " Then you must begin at 
once. I saw Judge Parsons drinking it, and have reason 
to think it the principal beverage consumed at the Club.' 1 
"Is it good?" he asked. k ' No, it's not good ; but it is 



400 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



the thing to do — and you had better commence immedi- 
ately and cultivate a taste for it." He called for "O 
Sucree " and sat down at the same table. At this junc- 
ture in came Mr. Haggin, a most amiable and accom- 
plished gentleman, from San Francisco, temporarily 
sojourning in Paris, not, so far as I know, for the purpose 
of enlarging his views or adding polish to his manners, 
but possibly because he likes it. " So," he said, after 
sitting down and calling for his regular brandy and 
seltzer, " you have finished Paris and are off for Spain." 
~$Ve confessed with some pride that we thought the most 
casual observer would recognize this most important fact 
in our improved deportment, and we thanked him for 
the polite concession. "Been to the Mabile, the Cha- 
teau de Fleurs, Close de Lilas, of course ?" he continued 
interrogatively. "We flatter ourselves that we have." 
" Been to the operas, the theaters ?" " We have." " To 
the Bois, and the Jardin des Plantes ?" " Yes, to all." 

Turning to the General, he continued, " I suppose, of 
course, you have been to the artesian well at Passy ?" 
" To what ?" was the inquiring answer of the General. 
" To the artesian well at Passy ?" said Haggin, looking 
at us alternately with growing contempt, as the suspi- 
cion ripened into conviction that we knew not of this 
wonder. We scratched our heads and looked blank, but 
neither of us made answer. There was no answer to 
make. It was useless to attempt denial or evasion. We 
had not been to see the artesian well at Passy. Not a 
word was spoken for two minutes. Mr. H. is a grave 
and dignified man, one who wastes no useless words ; 
in short, he has less of the Jones in him than almost any 
tourist one meets with on the Continent. All that he 
had to say on the subject of our omission was com- 
pressed in a few words as he rose to depart. " You 
have not been to the artesian well at Passy, and you 
leave Paris in the morning. It's a great pity. The 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 401 



artesian well at Passy is a very deep well. It is eighteen 
thousand feet deep." So saying and without further 
comment, evidently " more in sorrow than in anger," he 
walked to the door and stepping into one of his elegant 
carriages with two drivers, one before and one behind, 
which was there waiting for him, drove slowly down 
the boulevards in the direction of the Tuileries, where 
he was going to make a friendly call. 

We stared at each other for several minutes without 
speaking. I do not deny the possession of great quali- 
ties, but merely plead that it takes time to bring them 
into action. It is not so with the General. He recovers 
from the most stunning blow with a facility that appears 
almost like magic. His resolution was instantly taken 
and carried out with great pluck and dash. "We go to 
the artesian well at Passy," said he, with that low tone of 
voice indicative of inflexible determination. " How do 
we go ?" I inquired. " I will provide the means," he 
answered. It was raining, when we reached the street, 
in manner commonly expressed by the descriptive sen- 
tence, " cats and dogs." He stopped an omnibus by an 
order peremptorily given to the driver. It was full 
inside ; but in consequence of the rain the top was empty. 
" Mount," he said, giving me no time for reflection or 
protest. In an instant we were on the roof in the rain 
and without umbrellas. But we cared little for the 
descending elements. We were on our way to the arte- 
sian well at Passy. It rained in torrents the whole dis- 
tance. 

At last we reached Passy a pleasant village in the en- 
virons of Paris, and the omnibus being at the end of its 
route, we descended. We inquired for the famous well, 
and learned to our mortification that it was a mile back 
of the road we had come. The General looked blank as 
well as wet. " Can it be possible " he asked of me, " that 
we have passed an artesian well eighteen thousand feet 



402 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



deep without seeing it." I could not conceive the thing 
possible, but cautiously refrained from expressing an opin- 
ion. We turned and retraced our steps this time on foot, 
fearing to again pass the wonderful well. It was raining 
so hard that we found but few people abroad to inquire 
of, but we carefully stopped all whom we met. The most 
of them shrugged their shoulders and gave us to under- 
stand that they had never heard of such a thing. Some 
looked at us a moment as if in doubt as to our sanity, then 
laughing, pointed down the road in the direction we were 
going. We went as fast as we could walk. At last we 
found a boy sitting on a large iron pipe, half buried in 
the sand with a bag of potatoes by his side. He had been 
carrying the bag, and becoming tired, had set his burden 
upon the pipe and was resting when we came up. He 
was about to resume his load and march, when we stopped 
him. " Boy, where is the celebrated artesian well of 
Passy ?" I asked, in the best French I could summon, 
which, considering the state of the weather, might have 
been worse. He evidently did not understand me, but 
protested that the potatoes belonged to his mother and 
that he was carrying them home to her. Here the Genr 
eral came to the rescue. His only language being German, 
he addressed the youth in that musical and expressive 
tongue. " The great artesian well of Passy. The one 
eighteen thousand feet high." The boy still protested 
that he had not stolen the potatoes, but on the contrary 
was an honest young man. Just then an old woman 
came along with an umbrella, and hearing the colloquy, 
stopped and kindly gave us the desired information. The 
great artesian well at Passy was not far from where we 
stood. In fact, the ingenuous youth with whom we were 
conversing was at that moment, with his sack of potatoes, 
resting upon the wonderful well. That which we had 
taken to be an old iron pipe, half buried in the sand, was 
all that could be seen, or in fact ever had been or ever 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



403 



will be seen by human eyes, of the wonderful well of 
Passy, the balance being stretched along down from 
'where the boy sat, generally in the direction of the 
antipodes. The General was disgusted. " Why did 
you say that well was eighteen thousand feet high ?" he 
demanded. " I did not say so. I heard it was eighteen 
thousand feet deep, but never that it was that high." 
Borrowing the old woman's umbrella, he then and there 
took out pencil and paper, and reducing the feet which 
he had been led to believe this well to be in depth or 
height — and he didn't care, he said, which it was — it made 
more than four miles that the well had been bored into 
the bowels of the earth. He did not want anybody to 
say that he had not seen the well, and they could not say- 
so. That was the only comfort to be extracted from one 
afternoon spent in the rain. 

As for the ecene of St. Paul's conversion, the subject 
of this chapter, and from which I have somewhat digressed, 
I can only say that it is there yet, and that we went and 
saw it, which latter, if not the most important, is certainly 
the best authenticated fact connected with the place. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 



CYPRUS AXD RHODES. 



It was upon a bright and sunny afternoon that we 
loaded our trunks and carpet-bags upon the backs of a 
dozen lusty Beirutan porters, and followed them down 
to the custom-house of that city. The Archduchess Car- 
lotta, the same steamer in which a month before we had 
left Alexandria for Syria, lay rolling gently in the waves 
of St. George's Bay, only waiting for our little party to 
sail away for Cyprus. In half an hour we had got 
through with the last of Syrian officials, public and pri- 
vate, and were standing upon the quarter-deck of the 
little Austrian steamer, stancher and sounder, we hoj)ed, 
than her unfortunate patron at Miramar. Beyrout had 
never seemed so lovely, her harbor so graceful, her shores 
so inviting as at this, the moment we were to take leave 
of them forever. It seemed as if old Lebanon himself 
leaned over toward the pure waters of the bay, almost 
nodding his snow-crested head in final adieu, while the 
mulberry-groves upon his venerable sides gently waved 
their dark-green foliage, as if in solemn warning to us 
that we should look upon their beauties no more. It is 
a sad thing to feel that you are looking for the last time 
upon any material object. The dying man bids his 
attendant raise him up, and to open the window. " Let 
me look out once more at the glorious sun, the green 
fields, and the running brook, for I shall see them no 
more. Now lay me down and shut the window." It is 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



405 



done, and he sails away. We are all either dying men 
or dying women, or are children who have come into 
this beautiful world with the seed of disease which car- 
ries us away from the bright landscape, the beautiful bay, 
or the lofty mountain, and which is sure to shut the win- 
dow upon us, in a few brief days or years at the most. 
Farewell, Syria ! thy mountains and streams, thy beauti- 
ful cities and pleasant groves ! — the land of Abraham, 
of Isaac, and of Jacob — the birthplace of the worship 
of the living God, where Christ lived and died for man- 
kind — a long farewell! 

A tremor passes through the bones of the Archduchess, 
a splashing is heard over the side, the pure waters are 
cloven asunder at the prow, and pass away in foam at the 
stern. The huge mountain straightens up in his seat and 
sinks back into the fading horizon ; the groves of mul- 
berry cease waving their adieus, and retire. They are 
shutting the window ! 

It was broad daylight when we came in sight of 
Olympus, the loftiest peak upon the island home of the 
Cyprian goddess. Our party voted unanimously to go on 
shore, though we Avere to stay in the harbor but a few 
hours. A boat was accordingly hired at a sum w T hich 
brought the excursion within the means of all, and in a 
quarter of an hour we were strolling along the front of 
the town, trying to make out the Greek signs setting 
forth the character or occupation of the various shops, 
cafes, or public buildings, which look out upon the har- 
bor. Greek sailors with wide trousers, and Greek sol- 
diers, with plaited frock, red stockings, and sash 
garnished with a whole armory of antique pistols, 
strutted about the arcades or sat taking coffee or dark 
Cyprus wine at the shop-doors. Almost the first house 
we met w T ith, proved to be that of the American consul, 
an Italian gentleman, who distinguished himself by ser- 
vices in our late war, and who, with his wife, a New 



406 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



York lady, enjoy this fine climate, if not a lucrative 
salary, as the reward of a grateful country. He had not 
yet got out of bed, so we heard, but the arrival of a 
party of his countrymen was an event of so important a 
character in his land, that he would not long remain in 
that predicament. His cavasse, however, more alive to 
the importance of his position as representative of the 
Great Republic than his master, met us at the gate in full 
robes of office, his silver-headed wand, with the American 
bird engraved thereon, and with the inevitable flint-lock 
pistols in belt, and long cimeter dangling at his heels. 
He could not yet take us into the consular mansion, but 
would be proud of the honor of showing such illustrious 
guests the remarkable things of the town and island. 
We accepted without hesitation, and in less time than it 
has taken me to record the offer and acceptance, we were 
shown the things which in Cyprus, in the opinion, at 
least, of the cavasse to the American consul, deserve 
special notice. They were contained in the nearest 
wine-shop, and consisted of a bottle of Cyprus wine. 
We disposed of it almost as soon as it was brought 
within range of our throats, and then, having seen the 
sights, were solemnly reconducted to the consulate. 
That official was now up, and so was his wife. The 
house had been prepared for our reception ; coffee was 
made and wine had been opened. It was an important 
affair. The consul had not seen, an American for some 
months. As for business in his office, it was substan- 
tially unknown. He had been amusing himself for some 
time past, by excavating in the ruins of an ancient temple 
of Venus. He had met with considerable success. A 
large box, filled with antique images of the fair Cyprian, 
w T hich had, he said, been buried since the time of some 
iconoclastic decree of Justinian, I think (but as my 
memory is treacherous, I refer the classic reader to 
researches upon his own account), were brought forth 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



407 



from his cabinet and exhibited to our admiring eyes. 
But bis exuberant hospitality did not stop here. He 
went further, and dealt out the images with a liberal' 
hand, giving to each of the party one statue, and to the 
author two. Whether this singling out of myself as an 
object of special generosity proceeded from a suspicion in 
his mind of a secret preference on my part for the wor- 
ship which had once nourished in Cyprus, or whether it 
was from the circumstance that I had been the bearer of 
a suit of clothes, forwarded to him by the consul at Bey- 
rout, and which I had smuggled through the custom- 
house, I will leave the reader to judge. Like the fugi- 
tive inhabitants of Troy, we left Cyprus, each one bear- 
ing his god in his hand, and thus laden, were soon 
steaming upon the broad Mediterranean. 

In the night we dropped anchor in the harbor of 
Rhodes. It is much more easy to imagine the emotions 
produced by the sight of this historic island than to de- 
scribe them. I arose early and looked at the mediaeval 
walls, the strong flanking towers and draw-bridges which 
still attest the formidable power of the home of so much 
glory and chivalry. I tried to remember the history and 
to trace it down from the days when the few valiant souls 
devoted their lives to the care of the pilgrims who fell 
sick by the way-side, along the same road from Jaffa, 
through the mountains of Ephraim, over which we had 
so recently journeyed. How the good work had grown 
in importance as the flower of Western chivalry from 
France and Spain, from Italy and Auvergne, and even 
from distant England, had devoted their lives and honor 
to the pious duty. How from nurses they became warriors 
and with fiery zeal vied with the Templars in defending 
the cause of Christ from the infidel followers of the 
wicked son of Abdallah, first beneath the scorching suns 
of Syria, contesting inch by inch each foot of sand, each 
space of rock or drop of water, till finally, when the 



408 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

cause was given up by all the world, the sword and 
buckler of Christendom remained upon this little island 
in the Order of the Knights Hospitalers of St. John of 
Jerusalem. And I had hoped to look upon the spot 
where Fulk de Villaret had stalked up and down in clank- 
ing armor, and where old De l'Isle Adam had faced for 
so many months the two hundred thousand Moslem dogs 
of Solyman the Magnificent led on by Mustapha. There 
were the trenches and moats over which, upon bridges 
formed by the carcasses of their very companions, the 
infidel hosts had so often marched up to the walls, only to 
be again hurled back by the fierce and indomitable valor 
of the monk-knights. And then I thought of the sad 
faces of the brave old grand-master and his iron-hearted 
brothers when, after performing prodigies of valor, worn 
out by months of toil, and despairing ot help from lethar- 
gic Europe, they at last capitulated, extorting honorable 
terms from their admiring enemy, marched out from 
walls made sacred by centuries of glorious deeds of the 
Order. And then down the roll of time, as they made 
a new Rhodes upon the sterile rock of Malta, and of the 
deeds of John de la Valette and of Peter de Monte, until, 
after having existed for a period of years double the 
number that it has taken the discovery of Columbus to 
grow and dictate the conduct of the world, a single shot 
from Napoleon brought their Order to a close. Brave 
old fellows ! the world will not soon again look upon your 
like. 

We hired a boatman and a guide. The first was a 
Turk, the second a Jew, as was clearly indicated by his 
beard and by the invariable soap-locks or tuft of hair 
which was allowed to dangle by the side of his face in 
front of his ears. He was intelligent for a guide, the 
stupidest class of people in the East, in all things save 
lying and cheating, so far as my observation goes. He 
ordered the Turkish boatman about as if he owned him 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



409 



and his boat besides. When it comes to money-getting, 
a Turk is generally glad enough to accept the advantages 
of a partnership with and to obey the superior intelli- 
gence of a Jew. It is astonishing how a prospect of 
gain overcomes prejudice. A Turkish ship lay in the 
very entrance to the harbor with a Crescent flag flying. 
Ah ! Rhodes is not the Rhodes I knew. It was very 
different in the days when I dreamed about the dear old 
island; for I had known her more than three centuries 
ago, when the brave old warriors were there, and when 
no Turkish flag dare come within range of the great guns 
upon the ramparts that frown down above the little port. 
I had never heard of her since. When I knew her the 
ship, under whose stern our boat floated in passing in, 
would have had a stone cannon-ball as big as a flour 
barrel smashing through her sides, before her anchor 
could have reached the mud at the bottom of Rhodes 
harbor. 

Let us see what other changes have occurred since we 
knew Rhodes. We landed at a little stone jetty, and 
were conducted at once to the " Knights' Street," as the 
great thoroughfare upon which stood the palaces of the 
Hospitalers is called. It is an eighth of a mile in length 
and about thirty feet wide. The sandstone flagging laid 
down by the Christian soldiers covers the thoroughfare, 
for the street has been scarcely used since the knights 
were driven forth. The business of the town at present 
is in another quarter, and the Knights' Street is deserted 
and silent as a graveyard. The brown-stone palaces of 
the Christian warriors still attest the taste as well as the 
wealth of the former occupants. Each one bears a marble 
slab set firmly in its wall, upon which is carved the 
armorial bearings of its former owner and the date of its 
erection. The possession of a certain number of noble 
quarterings was necessary to make a gentleman eligible 
to the lofty position of a member of the Order. But 
18 



410 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



this varied in different nationalities, for some nations pre- 
served their blood purer than others. Four qnarte rings 
sufficed for a Spaniard, but a greater number were 
required of a German, for the aristocracy of Germany- 
was especially careful of its pedigrees. No less than 
sixteen quarterings being noble blood from the great- 
great-grandfather, was required of the German who would 
be admitted to the Order, while the merchant princes of 
Genoa, Lucca, and Florence, were taken without ques- 
tion upon this point, it being conceded that they conld 
not make any proof of gentle origin. It would take 
more skill in heraldry than I suspect is to be met with 
in modem times to decipher some of the coats of arms, 
the devices, and crests that adorn the stone houses at 
Rhodes. 

The dates were interesting, and looked almost as fresh 
as if cut but yesterday. I took special note of two. 
The first was 1492, the year of the discovery of America. 
Did the mason who cut the figures, or the knight who 
lived in the house, ever hear that America had been dis- 
covered? The second was 1519. In 1522, three years 
after this tablet was sculptured, Solyman sat down before 
Rhodes, with the armament with which he the next year 
drove the Knights from their island home. And it is 
more than probable that the knight who built the house 
must have heard the roar of Mustapha's cannon almost 
before he got settled in his mansion. Did the mechanics 
and material-men ever get their pay? It is scarcely 
probable that a lien would have been of great advantage, 
even if the steps had been taken to record it. But what 
difference does it make to any of the parties now ? It's 
pretty much the same after three hundred years. A 
negro woman looked out of the upper story window of 
this house, and two negro children were at play in front 
of it. This was the only appearance of inhabitancy in 
the street, nor did we see another soul besides our 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 411 



own party while we threaded its sad and lonely pave- 
ment. 

From the Knights' Street we found oar way to the 
ancient church of the Order, now a Moslem mosque. It 
was in a part that almost made it proof against cannon- 
shot. But we could not gain admittance, and proceeded, 
on to the top of the hill, where we were shown a deep 
pit, formed, it was said, by the explosion of a powder 
magazine. The guide told us a queer story about this 
pit. When the island had been surrendered to the 
Turks, the magazine had not been discovered, or its loca- 
tion was forgotten. Nor was it ever known until within 
this century it was accidentally fired and caused a terrific 
explosion, destroying many houses and lives. I give the 
story for what it is worth, with the additional statement 
that guides and dragomans will never tell the truth when 
they can think of a lie. But it would be interesting to 
know how long gunpowder could lie in the ground, if 
kept dry, and preserve its power. 

It was now near time to go on board, so we insisted 
upon being shown immediately the site of the Colossus, 
for this we had carefully specified in our bargain with 
the dragoman. He stood honestly to his agreement, and 
took us to the identical spot, like a high-toned gentleman. 
True, we did not exactly see how it could be, and offered 
some argument tending to show the impossibility of its 
having stood at this point. At this, the guide with a 
liberality greatly to his credit, offered to take us to 
another spot just as good. I inquired if it would be 
added to his charge as dragoman. No, he said, he had 
agreed to show us the place for a fixed sum, and that he 
was entirely willing to keep at it until we were satisfied, 
or as long as any of us were willing to go with him. 
After some little discussion, and in view of the near ap- 
proach of the hour of sailing, we determined by a decided 
majority vote to accept the first as the correct location, 



412 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



and so the matter was set at rest. It is at a little inlet 
about a quarter of a mile west of the main or present 
harbor, and presents this advantage, that it does not look 
in the least as if any Colossus was ever there. 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 



TO EPHESUS BY KAIL. 

We reached Smyrna in the night. The town, though 
old enough to claim the honor of having given birth to 
Homer, is as busy as Chicago and looks nearly as modern 
as an American country-seat. We hastened on shore in 
order to get conveyance of some sort to Ephesus. Some 
thought of going upon camels, others suggested boats 
by sea. Neither of these plans were adopted. Other 
modes of conveyance had been devised since St. Paul 
and St. Luke trudged across the country to preach the 
gospel and injure the respectable trade of Ephesian me- 
chanics in the construction of images of wood and stone. 
We went to Ephesus by rail. It is seventy miles from 
Smyrna, and the distance is made in about three hours 
and a half. What would St. Paul have thought of that ? 
Imagine the old fellow stepping into the station at Ephe- 
sus and calling for a second-class ticket to Smyrna and 
back. " I have just received a telegram from Timothy 
calling me down to preach, but I must be back in the 
evening, as these worshipers of Diana keep me quite on 
the move." Think of the gospel snorting about the coun- 
try at five and thirty miles an hour, including stop- 
pages. 

We had telegraphed up to Ephesus station to have 
horses in readiness for us, and found, upon our arrival, 
that it had been promptly attended to. The site of the 
ruined city is a mile or more from the station, but a line 



414 GOING TO JERIGHO; OR, 



of lofty columns, once the support of the aqueduct, 
stretches across the plain near to it, and passes around the 
the hill, marking the road as well as showing the vast- 
ness of the ancient enterprise which had reared this 
mighty capital. Each buttress, looking like a great square 
manufacturing chimney, was crowned by a heap of bran- 
ches of trees, bushes, and straw, carried thither by the 
long-legged and long-billed storks in the construction of 
their nests. These sat thereon in twos and threes, snap- 
ping their bills together like so many sheep-shearers 
engaged in the busy task of clipping wool. 

Ephesus, when there was such a place, lay in a level 
valley surrounded on two sides by lofty hills, and at the 
head of a small bay or estuary running up from the sea. 
But there is no bay there now; for the accumulated de- 
posits of ages have filled it up, and green meadows 
cover the spot where once lay the navies that visited or 
plied their traffic to or from Ephesus. There is no human 
inhabitant upon the spot where rested this city so famous 
in the history of pagan as well as Christian worship. We 
rode or walked over its square miles of ruins, of prostrate 
columns, of earth-covered walls, and the performance was 
several hours in the accomplishment. Yet the musical 
pipe of one solitary shepherd, who lay stretched upon the 
earth, alone served the double purpose of showing how 
desolate was the abandonment and how little change had 
occurred in the habits of the people who had so nearly 
disappeared. A colossal statue, prone upon the earth, in 
which it was half buried, was the first object that brought 
us to a pause. The marble had once been' white, and 
under the folds of the mantle, as an old coat shows under 
the collar the quality of the original cloth, the pure color 
of the Parian stone glistened even through the accumu- 
lated earth and stains of centuries of exposure. It had 
been the statue of some grandee of Asia, or distant Rome 
— a senator or a pro-consul — some ambitious fellow who 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



415 



wanted his statue to be larger than his rivals'. And from 
this cause comes the most of his humiliations. The 
statue is too large to be removed, or it would be in some 
distant museum with the name and history searched out 
by the learned moderns. So here it lies, a convenient seat 
for the same shepherd to sit upon and play his hollow 
wooden instrument to keep his flocks together. 

Just beyond this we came upon the fresh work of 
a party of excavators who had been recently at work, 
under pay from the British Museum at London. A Mr. 
Wood has charge of the operations, and had, just before 
we arrived, made a most astounding discovery, and 
which had carried him off" to Smyrna in triumph. It was 
no less than the identical tomb of St. Luke. The good 
man had been at work for months with, I suspect, little 
success, and now, all at once, to use a California phrase, 
had " struck it rich." There certainly was a handsome 
tomb unearthed, quite fine enough and quite large 
enough to have been the tomb of any saint in or out of 
the calendar. That it was the tomb of a Christian there 
appeared as little doubt, for a Greek cross cut in the 
marble of each of the eight sides of the structure put 
that matter entirely at rest. What other proofs there 
were that St. Luke was buried " beneath the lap of earth " 
I did not learn : for Mr. Wood, like the miner who comes 
upon a " big chunk " in our own country, had pushed for 
the city without delay, bearing joyously with him the 
evidences of his wonderful prize. We did learn in some 
way upon the ground, that St. Luke, as well as the 
Blessed Virgin, had died at Ephesus, and were buried 
near to or in the city. 

Close to the supposed tomb of St. Luke, we entered 
the theater and then passed on amidst mountains and 
hillocks, covered with trees and shrubs, and each of 
which an hour's excavation would prove to be a vast pile 
of marble, the ruins of a temple, a palace, or a bath. To 



416 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



the left of the road, our attention was attracted to what 
appeared to be a half-dozen prostrate trunks of trees. 
Their stupendous magnitude made them worthy a visit. 
They looked like a fallen grove of California big trees. 
Young saplings of considerable size, as well as bushes and 
briers, had grown up about and among these trunks, 
almost hiding them from view. I climbed upon one and 
walked along its great body for more than a hundred feet. 
It was not a tree, but a gigantic marble column of the 
Corinthian order, with flutes so wide that my feet would 
easily rest within them as I walked from the base to the 
upper end, and looked over at another great stone as big 
as an omnibus, embedded partly in the earth, and with 
trees of all sorts growing up about and around it. This 
was the capital with its leaves and ornaments, rich in the 
fanciful devices of this the proudest invention of ancient 
architects. All among the bushes lay great masses of 
black rough stones, protruding from the earth like the 
outcroppings of an unworked stone quarry. To the eye 
these might have rested in their present place since the 
day form was given to the chaotic elements of the earth. 
But this primitive appearance was upon the upper surface 
only. I got down and looked under the fragments where 
the rain could not reach, and was rewarded by the view 
of delicately cut moldings, rich wreaths and elegant 
devices, all worked in marble as white and pure as that 
from Italian quarries. What could this ruin have been ? 
The guide said, the Temple of Diana. This was the 
strongest argument that I heard against its being that 
temple. If it had been really the ruins of that famous 
building, the guide would have said it was not. They 
always get the wrong side of any fact, if it can have a 
wrong side to it. This rule is so invariable that it can be 
acted upon with considerable certainty. 

Beyond this we entered the plain which in former times 
fronted upon the port and where the shipping lay. Here 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 417 



another gang of men had been excavating in a theater, 
likewise for the British Museum. A half-dozen statues 
lay about upon the ground. They had been discovered a 
few days before, but owing to the excitement of the St. 
Luke affair all operations had been suspended, and those 
works of art had not been forwarded to Smyrna for ex- 
portation. An exquisite head of a female deity lay near 
the mouth of the excavation, covered with bows of olive. 
If the trunk, when found, equals the head, a rare gem of 
art will fall to the fortunate museum which is prosecuting 
the work. But the native laborers are such thieves that 
I wonder Mr. Wood ever gets any thing out of the 
country. One of our party bought for a dollar a hand in 
marble which had been broken from some statue, and 
which to the museum would have been of priceless value. 
This theater, as well as the ruins of many splendid baths 
near it, stands upon the side of a low range of hills that 
lie almost in the center of the site of Ephesus. This hill 
overlooks the plain and ancient port, and around its base 
and upon its sides the finest buildings, theaters, and tem- 
ples were no doubt erected. In the back of this same 
hill is the Cave of the Seven Sleepers, a tradition of the 
early church too familiar to justify my giving it in this 
place. The plain in front of the hill and around the port 
is strewn for miles away with every conceivable form and 
variety of stone, once the material of the houses of the 
great city. You literally step over and upon them, pick- 
ing your way among marble fragments and pieces of por- 
phyry and verd antique. 

An hour's ride brought us back from this port to the 
station. Soon we heard the whistle of the approaching 
train (for Ephesus is only a way station and not the ter- 
minus), and soon were driving at a round pace back to 
Smyrna. 

18* 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 



STAMBOTJL. 

It would be a most difficult task to convey even a faint 
idea of the queenly grandeur of Constantinople. Of 
course I refer to her wonderful location and to her majes- 
tic appearance as approached by sea or land. The world 
does not possess a half-dozen writers equal to the task, 
and of that half-dozen perhaps scarcely one would dare to 
try it. There is no other such a city upon the globe. 
New York comes nearer to Constantinople than any of 
which I know. Let the St. Lawrence River empty into 
the sea at the mouth of the Hudson ; elevate the island 
of Manhattan and the shores of Long Island and New 
Jersey to the height of three hundred feet above the sea- 
level; cover all these hills, at frequent intervals, with 
Byzantine mosques, each with its dozen domes rising one 
above another, and flanked by half that number of grace- 
ful minarets piercing the clouds or sparkling in the glow- 
ing sun — and you may form some notion of the city which 
sits so royally upon the Golden Horn and Thracian Bospo- 
rus. Even then you would miss the ten thousand graceful 
caiques, darting, like arrows, in every direction, which 
literally cover the deep waters of the harbor. 

We dropped our anchor in the Golden Horn, between 
the Seraglio and the bridge, at three o'clock in the after- 
noon of a pleasant day. In an instant enough caiques 
were around the ship's side to have borne away not only 
each passenger separately, but every distinct article of his 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



419 



baggage, one article to each boat. In ten mintues we 
were in the custom-house, having our baggage examined. 
A little array of porters stood about, each with his saddle 
on his back, waiting to be laden with our effects. As fast 
as a trunk was searched it was hoisted upon one of these 
fellows, and upon this carpet-bags were piled until he 
was considered laden. The process was slow, and those 
who were so fortunate or unfortunate as to get a load 
first, hao! to wait until the last article was laid upon the 
last porter before they could start. But this did not ap- 
pear to the sturdy fellows the least bit of a hardship. As 
fast as they took on their freight they stepped aside, and 
there stood waiting, leaning forward like a lot of os- 
triches, each with his load of not less than three or four 
hundred pounds, standing patiently first upon one foot 
and then upon the other, for the half hour necessary to 
complete the business of getting the luggage for the whole 
party. This done, the troop, followed along the wharves, 
through the dirty streets and up the hill of Galata, to 
Pera, first to one hotel and then to another, till we found 
lodgings. At the top of the fifth flight of stairs in the 
Hotel Bizance, where we finally settled, the porters were 
not half as much fatigued as were the employers, who 
had only carried themselves the same distance. We had 
been recommended to go to Missirah's hotel, but found it 
full, and so did the best we could in stopping at the 
Bizance hard by. 

Constantinople is evidently losing every year its Ori- 
ental character. Pera, which is the Frankish quarter, 
is more like Marseilles than it is like an Eastern 
city. Its population is made up of Greeks, Italians, 
Germans, French, and a few English. The costumes 
seen on the streets of Pera are almost entirely West- 
ern. The tailors come from Paris, and bring with them 
their fashion-plates. To find any thing Oriental, it is 
necessary to cross the Golden Elorn to Stamboul, or the 



420 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



Bosporus to Scutari. And even then you see almost 
as many Western dresses as Eastern. The Turkish gen- 
tleman dresses in the latest Paris fashion in all respects, 
save that he wears the red cap and tassel known as the 
fez. And even this article of dress, if good, comes from 
France, where there are immense manufactures of them 
expressly for the East. The question may be asked, 
why does the Mussulman not go farther, and adopt the 
hat, thus completing his imitation of Western fashion ? 
The answer is simple : his religion requires him to shave 
his head, except one small lock of hair, which is said to 
be left on to enable the Prophet to pull him out of hell, 
in case if, by any unforeseen accident, he should be found 
there instead of in paradise. This accounts for the fact 
of the Turk wearing his cap at all times and in all places. 
To our party coming from Syria, the place looked even 
more European than it would have looked to persons 
coming from another direction. We had come from a 
country where few women were seen abroad, and that 
few completely veiled. Here we saw the streets tilled 
with handsome well-dressed ladies, as in Paris. And to 
us they appeared the more numerous from our former 
deprivation of this interesting feature. We saw no camels 
about the streets of Pera, though occasionally one may 
be seen in Stamboul. On the other hand, carriages, some 
good, and more bad and heavy, rattle about upon the 
rough pavement in every direction. Sedan chairs, an 
institution difficult to fix upon any particular nation as a 
specialty, were swinging about around narrow corners, 
or darting out of blind alleys in every direction. Hand- 
organs, even more plentiful than in Italy, attested either 
the love of music or the love of mendicancy, indulged in 
by the population of this Turkish capital. Boy boot- 
blacks running about in every direction with box and 
brushes, soliciting business, helped to impart a Western 
air to the scene, even as much as did the crowds of pretty 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



42 I 



women in French dresses seen on all sides. Instead of 
the donkeys saddled and ready for hire, as in Damascus 
and Cairo, the street corners of Constantinople are 
crowded with handsome saddle-horses used for the same 
purpose. And gentlemen are seen riding in every direc- 
tion, galloping sharply or trotting freely, followed on 
foot by the owner of the elegant steed upon which they 
are riding. Beautiful steel engravings of pictures made 
in Paris, London, or Berlin, ornament elegant shop win- 
dows, and attract crowds of gazing loungers, as in West- 
ern cities. 

Photograph shops, so plentiful in modern times in all 
civilized countries, are almost as plentiful in Pera as in 
Paris. But in this I observed a taint of Oriental vice. 
In Alexandria, in Cairo, and Beyrout, shopkeepers do not 
scruple to expose openly for sale photographs of the most 
indecent character. Farther east it has this palliation, 
that respectable women are supposed not to be in danger 
of being insulted by the exposure, by reason of their being 
kept within the house, and going abroad only under the 
cover of the impenetrable veil. But here in Pera a lady 
dare not look in a photographer's window. Pictures so 
indecent that I could not be permitted by any circumkv 
cution to intimate their faults, are flaunted openly in a 
dozen places, not merely in Stamboul, but in the great 
street of Pera, the Christian quarter, and near to the 
European hotels. 

On Friday of each week the Sultan goes to mosque 
w ith great parade. We ascertained through the consul 
what mosque he would visit, and posted ourselves at a 
convenient place on the route. The ceremony is more 
military than religious in character. The lack of a priestly 
order in the Moslem faith accounts, of course, for the 
want of ceremonies. A half-dozen regiments of infantry, 
one of cavalry, and all preceded by brass bands, made up 
the capital of the performance. In the midst of this the 



422 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



Sultan and his staff, all mounted upon magnificent horses, 
slowly marched from the palace to the mosque. He is a 
heavy, dull, and very stupid-looking man, appearing to be 
near fifty years old, which is at least fifteen years older 
than he actually is. He speaks no language but his own, 
and has all the ignorance of a king. Mr. Morris, the 
American minister, told us several anecdotes illustrative 
of this fact. Among them he said that but a short time 
before the Sultan had taken offense at some imaginary 
breach of etiquette on the part of the Russian embassador. 
Summoning his grand vizier, he said : " I have determined 
to declare war immediately against Russia. Make you, 
therefore, the necessary arrangements with the armies 
and fleets and let the attack commence within the week." 
The poor vizier, who is, for a Turk, a very intelligent 
man, was horrified. He understood all the consequences 
of the dreadful act. Declare war against Russia! Why 
it was the very thing that that power most desired. But, 
necessity is the mother of invention. He withdrew, 
promising implicit obedience. The next day he was 
early in attendance at the palace, asking an audience of 
his august master. "Yesterday, upon my leaving the 
presence of the Lord of Lords and King of Kings, my 
imperial master, I was sought by the now penitent em- 
bassador of Russia, who implores for his heinous offense 
your gracious pardon, and throws himself entirely upon 
your well-known mercy. Should your majesty insist upon 
visiting his fault with a punishment to be inflicted upon 
his country, his master, the Czar, will not fail to put the 
unfortunate minister to death. He prostrates himself 
humbly at your august feet, and prays that your just 
wrath may pass away." " God is great," said the pious 
Sultan, " and to be merciful, is to resemble him. Let the 
slave live." I need not say that the grand vizier had not 
been nearer to the Russian embassador than when he 
stood before the Sultan. The Sultan, on passing through 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



423 



the streets, does not condescend to bow, or to address 
any sort of recognition to the people who are looking on. 
This we were told was the Oriental etiquette. That it 
was not expected for one so far removed above the grovel- 
ing masses of ordinary humanity, to take notice of the 
fact that any such exist. 

Just at the time we were at Constantinople the political 
element in the country, which is of a most limited char- 
acter, and confined to the various embassies and their 
dependents, was somewhat disturbed by the publication 
of an open letter or address from Mustapha Fazil Pasha 
to the Sultan. Mustapha was then residing in Paris. 
But being nearly related to the great houses of the Otto- 
man throne, and being also thought to be more intelligent 
than the most of his countrymen, a letter from him coun- 
seling a more liberal policy, based upon the mode of 
government practiced in the West — in short, recom- 
mending a constitutional system — naturally attracted 
much attention not only at Constantinople but through- 
out Europe. The letter was certainly ably written, and 
showed considerable knowledge of the nature of the 
disease which was threatening the life of the " sick man " of 
the East. Yet this Mustapha Fazil Pasha, the model of 
Oriental enlightenment, a sort of shining luminary to his 
benighted country, but a short time before gravely in- 
quired of Lord Lyons if while acting as embassador at 
Washington he had found it necessary to acquaint him- 
self with the American language. If so much ignorance 
is to be met with among the learned of the East, what 
must be the state of those who have not the advantage 
of education ! 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 



EAK- A WAT-MOSES. 



Next to the Sultan, and possibly his grand vizier, the 
most noted personage in the capital of the Mohammedan 
world is Far-away-Moses. Such being the fact, it will 
not be amiss to tell the readers something about that 
third distinguished personage. Far-away-Moses is by pro- 
fession a dragoman, by residence a Byzantine, by race and 
religion a Jew. But to say this alone would be giving 
but an indistinct description of his qualities, and but an 
unjust and restricted notion of his position, as well as of 
the grounds upon which rest a reputation which is as ex- 
tensive throughout the Levant, though in a different chan- 
nel, as that of Omar Pasha or Abd-el-Kader. Far-away- 
Moses unites to the office of dragoman the additional 
function of that of commissioner. It is the custom of 
strangers visiting Oriental cities, and especially Constan- 
tinople, to make purchases of various sorts of goods — the 
fabrics of the country — to take home with them as sou- 
venirs of their travels. This weakness, if I may so term 
it, is no secret to the various merchants of bazaars of 
Cairo, of Damascus, and of Constantinople. And these 
do not fail to take advantage of the ignorance or eager- 
ness of such transient customers to demand for each 
article a sum greatly in advance of its real value. This, 
in our travels, we soon learned, and were absolutely 
driven from the markets of the two first-named cities by 
the almost fabulous prices demanded for goods. But 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



425 



while we are yet in the land of Egypt, vague and indis- 
tinct rumors floated down the waters of the great sea and 
up the sluggish current of the Nile, about the inestimable 
qualities of one Far-away-Moses, who resided in Constan- 
tinople. This phenomenon, so the report went, was 
honest to a degree never before known in the East. 
And many were the indistinct stories we heard of amber 
mouthpieces, of embroidered slippers, or of Persian car- 
pets, refused absolutely to the Giaour in person with 
money in hand, at one sum, but brought in triumphantly 
at a later day by the ingenuous Moses, who had in the 
mean time been dispatched on a secret mission to the 
bazaar for that purpose, at one-half, or even one-fourth, 
of the money before contemptuously declined. It was 
said that the way for the traveler to do was to go to the 
bazaar and select the goods desired, aud making a care- 
ful examination, remembering the marks, and asking the 
price, to return to his hotel and send Far-away-Moses in 
quest of the article. That he had never been known to 
fail in reappearing in a few hours with the goods at a 
price which was but a small part of that demanded by 
the merchant. As we worked our way slowly along the 
Syrian coast, approaching gradually the scene of Moses's 
operations, his fame grew more distinct and decisive. 
That which had been whispered at Cairo was muttered at 
Damascus, and statements which at Beyrout were ven- 
tured with mysterious reluctance, were boldly and de- 
fiantly proclaimed at Smyrna. I had not come to the 
East to buy goods. But there is something contagious 
in the mere idea of purchasing goods at a bargain. The 
rest of the party were determined to buy all sorts of things 
in Constantinople. That city was not visited every spring 
and fall, they argued ; and if it were, the interval between 
those seasons might be sufficient to cut short the precious 
thread of Far-away Moses's life. He may be dead before 
we get back again. The idea of another such occurring 



426 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



within our day and generation never entered the mind of 
one of the party. I held a family council with my wife, 
and we determined not to be behind in the race. From 
the moment of this resolve we felt that we had the same 
interest in the wonderful dragoman of Constantinople 
with the others, and nothing was heard of but the won- 
ders of the bazaars of the East. 

We had only been lodged safely in the Hotel de Bizance 
in Pera for half an hour, when the General and myself 
made our way down stairs and out upon the main street, 
which divides that quarter, and upon which the most of 
the business is done. It had been from the first a question 
of considerable importance to us all how we were to get 
hold of Far-away-Moses. We were strangers in the city, 
and spoke not the language of its people. We had but a 
few days to devote to seeing the sights of the Turkish 
capital, and while doing this we must also make our 
purchases in its bazaars. In a city of nine hundred 
thousand people it is not an easy task to find even the 
most distinguished individual. 

While we stood upon the narrow sidewalk, discussing 
the difficulties which surrounded the situation, we were 
approached and addressed in English by a young fellow 
of eight-and-twenty years. He was decidedly the seed- 
iest and dirtiest-looking of all the wretched Oriental bum- 
mers we had yet seen in the streets of Pera. He wore a 
browmish gray burnoose, which he had evidently picked 
up in the gutter after it had been worn-out by some 
pauper. His trousers, in the shape of the Turks', were 
bag-legged, but only reached his knees, while from that 
down to the most woe-begone looking pair of shoes I ever 
saw, and which utterly failed to cover his toes, his dirty 
legs were completely bare. " Do you wish a guide 
and interpreter, gentlemen ?" said the seedy individual. 
" No !" we both blurted out at once, with an energy 
which for a moment repulsed the attacking party. " But 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



427 



do you know who I am ? T he inquired. We now turned 
and looked at him and then at each other. " Not the 
grand vizier ? " suggested the General, inquiringly. " Nor 
Omar Pasha ?" said I. He shook his head at each guess, 
and we tried again. " The Sultan ?" said the General. 
" No," said the guide. " Who the d — 1 are you ?" " I 
am Far-away Moses," he said, with an effort at dignity 
which was rather becoming to him. " Good heavens, you 
don't say so ?" said the General, seizing his hand and shak- 
ing it cordially. " Why I have heard about you before." 
Moses accepted the compliment with easy nonchalance. 
He knew that his reputation was extensive, but it was 
not beyond his deserts. " Are you at leisure for the next 
few days ?" inquired the General eagerly. Moses thought 
he was. "How lucky," said the General, turning to me. 
" Provideutial," said I. "What do you ask per day?" 
" Twenty piasters." "But you take a commission from 
the merchants of whom we buy ?" Moses stopped short 
and drew back. He was deeply moved, not in anger, but 
he was evidently hurt at the unjust suspicion. I thought 
him about to burst into tears, and so did the General. 
" Stop, my dear fellow ; I did not mean to do you wrong, 
upon my honor, and I take it back. 5 ' Moses was as gen- 
erous as the General ; in a moment harmony was restored. 
But he took occasion to declare his mind fully with re- 
spect to the dishonest practice of but too many of the 
persons engaged in the same profession with himself. He 
admitted that some would stoop to this unw r orthy sys- 
tem. But he said that he, Far-away-Moses, was a very 
different sort of person. For five minutes he enlarged 
upon his own rules with respect to clients, and what 
should be the duty of a dragoman. Every sentence 
uttered by Moses was replete with the loftiest sentiments 
of integrity and honor. It was as good as a sermon to 
hear him. We were both delighted with his speech, and 
again and again thanked our stars at having fallen in 



428 GOING TO JERICHO; OJS, 



with him so easily. The very moment we could get him 
to cease talking of his honesty long enough for that pur- 
pose, we engaged him for the whole time we should be 
in Constantinople, to commence immediately. Then we 
strolled down the street of Pera toward the Galata tower, 
Moses accompanying us and giving us all the information 
we required — the traditions, ancient and modern ; the his- 
tory, the manners and customs and religion of the people. 

Near the tower I dropped for a moment behind, and 
was accosted likewise in English by a fellow dressed much 
like Moses. " What do you want ?" I demanded. He 
approached and whispered in a mysterious manner : 
" You tink dat man de Far-away-Moses ? " he inquired. 
" I do," said I ; "I know he is." He shook his head. 
"No good; he be not de man. I am broder to Far- 
away-Moses, de real man. If you want him, I show him 
to you." I drove the rascal away with fitting indignation 
and went on. Between that point and the Stamboul 
bridge I was stopped five times by brothers of the real 
Moses, by eight claiming each to be his father, and by 
not less than twenty collateral relatives in a more or less 
remote degree. I told the General immediately, and we 
asked Moses the cause of this dispute. He said they were 
enemies, who desired to injure him in his business, because 
he was honest. 

This explanation was satisfactory, and we continued 
our march, the Moses family increasing by continued 
accessions forming a sort of procession and following us 
wherever we went. I must here explain that it is the 
custom throughout the East for the merchant to pay to the 
dragoman who is with a Frankish customer a commission 
varying from two to ten per cent, upon the amount of 
each sale made. And this they will demand and receive 
even if they are wholly self invited, and following the 
stranger against his will. If there is a gang of them they 
hang about and then collect the commission, and divide it 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



429 



among themselves. We returned to the hotel and called 
out Capt. T. and Mr. C. We introduced Far-away-Moses, 
and explained the combination of dishonest dragomans 
that was being formed against him. They were as indig- 
nant as we were, and we determined to break it up. We 
ordered the whole family to leave under pain of personal 
chastisement. The General caught one or two of Moses's 
fathers and shook them, I pitched into a little party of 
grandparents and hustled them about with my umbrella, 
Capt. T., more bold, seized whole shoals of cousins and 
half-brothers and put them to flight, while C, like Salthen- 
stall, in the old story of the Arkansas fight, " kept slosh- 
ing around." 

It was now dinner-time, and Moses left, with the agree- 
ment that he was to be on hand at the hotel at eight 
o'clock the following morning. But at eight he was not 
there, nor, indeed at nine. We now went into the street, 
and found Moses sitting in the sun across the way, sur- 
rounded and apparently upon the best of terms with some 
forty or fifty of the very fellows of the night before, pre- 
tended relatives of the genuine Far-away-Moses. " Why 
did you not come into the house, Moses ?" inquired the 
General. " Because they would not let me come in," 
said he. "Who?" "The proprietor." The General 
was enraged, and called for that personage. "Why was 
my dragoman refused admittance ?" " We never permit 
the entrance of suspicious characters." This was the only 
satisfaction we could get ; and so we set off for the 
bazaar, the crowd following. 

We found upon our arrival that we were fully expected. 
The business for that day was to sell goods to our party. 
When we would start for a particular bazaar we would 
so inform Moses. When we drew near the place he would 
stop and warn us. "Now this fellow with whom you 
are going to trade is a rogue. He will ask you just 
double what the article is worth. You must therefore 



430 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



offer him but one-half what he asks." This plan we 
adopted for a time, but soon found it to work badly. 
True, we would get the goods at the price offered, but we 
found that, instead of double, the fellow had demanded 
from six to even ten times what it was worth. In fact it 
would often prove the case that after one of us had pur- 
chased and paid for an article another would by way of 
experiment offer for one similar half the price just paid, 
and find himself the owner of the article in a twinkling. 
From this time our party carried on a ten days' struggle 
with the merchants of Constantinople. We would divide 
up and rush down suddenly upon them in broken squads 
of one and two to take them by surprise. We would pre- 
tend to be going out of town, and at the last moment, in 
solid column, pour down upon the enemy. This we 
would do to try to evade the Moses family. But they 
always appeared to know just what we were to do next, 
and were always fully prepared. We would meet in the 
great central bazaar, and pretend that one of us wanted 
to buy a particular article and that the balance wanted 
nothing. Then the real purchaser would attempt to get 
away. But always in vain. There were enough of these 
Moseses to give a fully equipped army to each one of our 
little party. The General would at times come puffing 
back to us, followed by a score of Moseses of all ages, 
the sweat trickling down bis sides. He had bought an 
amber mouthpiece or a pair of slippers at a price so low 
that it must be the same as a present. In two minutes 
Mr. C. or the Captain would appear from an opposite 
direction, followed by an equally numerous army, in a 
like condition, and bearing aloft similar articles, purchased 
at half the sum paid by the General. Then they would 
consult and march together back to the merchant, who 
would offer them still more of the same at a quarter. 
Each day added to our stocks of goods and to our knowl- 
edge of the fact that we were paying for them the most 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



431 



fabulous prices. But Moses was never to blame. He 
always told us to be on our guard. That the merchants 
were but little better than thieves, and not to give them 
the prices they would ask. We must offer them, he said, 
just half what they asked. 

At last the day of sailing came. We had spent all of 
our money, and had very little to show for it. We 
were therefore not sorry to go. Far-away-Moses had 
ceased to be Far-away-Moses. About the fourth day 
we were in Constantinople the proof came in so strong 
against him, and the pressure became so great, that he 
confessed himself not the genuine, but the brother of 
the original. The next day after that we met with the 
genuine, but soon came to the conclusion that he was not 
much better than the rest of the family. And as we had 
been in the care of Little Moses, as we now called him, 
for so long, We thought we might as well go on as we had 
begun. We got on board the steamer for Messina at four 
o'clock the day we left, two hours before the time of sail- 
ing. Moses had served us faithfully. As for the little 
fraud of pretending to be another man, that we attributed 
to a low system of Oriental morals, and overlooked it. It 
was thought that we ought to give him a certificate of 
good character. A dispute here arose as to who was to 
draw the precious document. Both the Captain and the 
General had strong claims. The General had written 
many letters which had resulted in getting men appointed 
in the custom-house and post-office services. The point 
was finally determined in favor of the General, and he 
drew the document. Unfortunately, no copy was pre- 
served. I can therefore only set forth from recollection 
its general tenor. It certified that the bearer (young 
Moses) had been in the service of the undersigned for ten 
days, to which fortunate circumstance they were indebted 
not only for the unmixed pleasure of the society of a 
noble-minded and honorable youth, but for the purchase, 



432 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



at fabulously low prices, of considerable quantities of 
goods in amber, silk, and Persian fabrics, called to their 
notice by this honest, upright, truthful, and pure-minded 
young man, to whom, as a trifling and wholly inadequate 
reward, they had given this expression of their unwaver- 
ing and never-to-be-extinguished respect, friendship, con- 
fidence, and admiration. It further recommended all 
foreigners coming to Constantinople, to seek out and find, 
the bearer at all hazards, and to confide in him fully. 
That, knowing no guile, he would lead them to the 
bazaars and out again with safety to purse and person. 
The General signed his name and passed it to the Captain 
to read. The Captain had evidently been a little nettled 
at being refused the privilege of writing the paper. He 
was therefore disposed, to find fault. " Is this not a little 
stronger than is necessary," he asked. The General in- 
sisted that any alteration should be only to more fully set 
forth the virtues of this paragon of a dragoman. So the 
Captain signed and passed it to me. My name went on, 
of course. The paper was given to Moses, and we all 
took an affectionate leave of him, the General especially, 
embracing him with brotherly tenderness. Moses was 
affected to tears, and our party was but little behind him. 

Just as he went over the side it occurred to the Gen- 
eral that in our hurry we had omitted to purchase a supply 
of smoking-tobacco. We had whole packages of mouth- 
pieces of amber, chibouks by the dozen, and nargilehs 
enough for all our friends, but no tobacco. He looked, 
at his watch. We had still an hour left; quite long 
enough to send on shore for a supply. " Stop, Moses," 
he said to the weeping dragoman, "we are not done with 
you yet." " Here is your chance," said the General to 
us all. " This honest fellow has his caique alongside ; in 
ten minutes he can bring us all some of that excellent to- 
bacco." A dozen of us — not only of our party but some 
New York gentlemeu with whom we were acquainted — 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 433 



availed ourselves of the opportunity to send on shore. I 
wanted a dollar's worth. So did the General. So did 
several more. " Now look sharp Moses, and be sure and 
bring us the best tobacco." He was down the side in an 
instant, and soon his elegant little caique was splitting the 
clear water of the Golden Horn. In the mean time we 
walked up and down the deck waiting for his return. 
Passengers were coming up the sides every moment. 
Stewards were rushing about with trunks and carpet-bags, 
and every thing was in the bustle of departure. Time, 
under such circumstances, travels rapidly. Before we 
thought a quarter of an hour had passed, we were surprised 
by the turning of the wheels of the ship. She was about 
to get under way. An hour had passed away and Moses 
had not returned. The General was in a stew. He felt 
that the poor fellow had been unavoidably detained, and 
knew what would be his chagrin at being too late. He 
rushed to the captain of the steamer, who was walking up 
and down on the bridge smoking a cigar. " You are not 
going to start, captain?" The captain, without remov- 
ing his cigar, " thought he was." " But he has not got 
back." " Who ?" said the captain. " Moses," said the 
General ; "the poor fellow has gone ashore to fetch us some 
tobacco." " Can't help it," said the captain ; " if the 
whole Children of Israel were to be left, I must go on." 
By this time the ship was fully under way. The Gen- 
eral rushed to the stern, in the vain hope of catching a 
glimpse of poor Moses, in order to assure him, by a part- 
ing w r ave of the hand that we had not lost confidence in 
his integrity. He was nowhere to be seen. It was evi- 
dent that he had been detained by his envious fellow- 
dragomans against his will, probably in order to make 
us think him a dishonest fellow. But if this was their 
object, it most signally failed, for our good opinion of 
young Moses remains unshaken to this day. 
19 



CHAPTER XL. 



ABOUT OTTAR OF ROSES. 



One of the most Dotable weaknesses with travelers is 
that of purchasing articles in each country through which 
they pass, by way of remembrances. The industry or 
skill of each land must be represented in the returning 
trunk, otherwise the visit is lost. For my part, I pos- 
sessed this mania in its worst form, but often escaped its 
consequences through my ignorance of the very names of 
the coveted goods ; but unfortunately, so far as the indulg- 
ing in this weakness was concerned, I was in company 
with a gentleman of education, and possessing cultivated 
tastes. General C. knew exactly in what each Oriental 
nation excelled the other. We had not tumbled from 
our donkeys more than fifteen times in Cairo, that is to 
say, in the evening of the first day, when he iuquired of 
me if I intended to buy any ottar of rose. The thing was 
new to me. I had never heard of it before. I generally 
adopted the plan of pretending to know all about the 
subject broached, taking the chance of learning what it 
is from the conversation. But the question was so 
abrupt as to throw me off my guard. " Ottar of rose ! 
What is that?" "Never heard of .the ottar of rose ?" 
said he, with a look in which pleasure and contempt were 
about equally divided. " No ; never heard of the ottar 
of any thing. What do you suppose I would be doing 
in this infernal country if I had heard of the tenth part 
of the thiugs in it?" I answered a little nettled. This 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



435 



softened him down slightly. " Well," said he, " it's a 
good thing that Sam W. told me about at a Democratic 
convention where we were delegates ; we found it a 
wonderful disinfectant. One drop of it on your coat 
sleeve will enable you to sit in convention a whole even- 
ing. They make it here, and it ought to be cheap." I 
was pleased with the idea, and resolved to obtain a supply 
of the precious substance, in case I should ever again be 
called upon, in my capacity of resident and elector of the 
Eighth Ward, to preside at one of these institutional gath- 
erings of the people known as primary elections. " It's 
high at home," continued the General; "we had to pay 
four bits a drop at Keith's drug store, but it's good. One 
drop put on your clothes will make you fragrant for 
fourteen or fifteen years. That's what makes me smell 
so sweet." I had often observed his odor, but had never 
before been able to account for it. This decided me. 
Ottar of rose I would buy. 

In the morning, all mounted upon good donkeys, and 
followed each by a mukarah to keep us up to the re- 
quired speed, we set off for the Perfume Bazaar. We 
had taken Mr. Stickney into our confidence and that gentle- 
man had become as ardent an admirer of Oriental perfumes 
as even the General himself. The General is especially 
given to perfumery, and Mr. Stickney not without a weak- 
ness in the same- direction. We therefore set off together 
to buy ottar of roses. Accompanied by our dragoman, 
one of the few honest ones of his class, we approached 
the dealer in sweet smells, and the following dialogue 
took place : — 

Gen. C. (in English, to dragoman). — " Ask the old fel- 
low if he has got any ottar of roses, and what the price 
is ? Tell him that we want it very cheap." 

Dragoman (in English, to Gen. C). — " Yes, sir ; I will 
do so. (In Arabic, to perfume-dealer). — These fellows 
with me are Effendi. S., the discoverer and owner of the 



436 GOING TO JERICHO; OB, 



mines of California and Washoe, who has been for more 
than twenty years taking out two hundred thousand dol- 
lars a day, coarse gold, besides silver, copper, and cinni- 
bar beyond computation. The second is Gen. C, pasha 
of five tails, suppressor of the late rebellion in America, 
in which he has conquered fifteen States, each larger than 
the whole of Egypt, and confiscated all the property, 
real, personal, and mixed. He now gives his enemies a 
temporary breathing spell, in which he visits Egypt and 
the East. The third lives in the American capital, and is 
the grand vizier of Sultan Johnson. They are traveling 
for the first time, and with no other purpose than to get 
rid of their money. They are at this moment in search 
of the perfumes of the Orient. Three greater muffs I 
have never met with during my fifteen years' experience 
as a dragoman. They could not distinguish the perfume 
of the ottar of rose from the smell of the wild gourd 
blossom of the Nile. They are a promising trio. If we 
skin them, how much will you allow me as my share of 
the spoils ?" 

Gen. C. (in English, to dragoman). — "Oh, bother! 
don't be all day. Ask him if he has any ottar of rose, 
and how he sells it. (Aside, to me). — I bought some at 
home once, to scent my handkerchief with, when my wife 
was in the country, and had to pay two bits a drop for 
it." 

Dragoman (in English, to Gen. C). — "Yes, sir; I was 
explaining to him that he must sell it cheap, or you would 
go on to another shop. (To perfume-dealer, in Arabic). — 
You must charge him a big price, and give me half of 
all you get." 

Per fume-dealer (in Arabic, to dragoman). — " I am quite 
willing to do so. How much do you think the greenies 
will stand ?" 

Dragoman (in Arabic, to perfume-dealer). — " Oh, cheat 
them all you can; it's all right ; charge them heavy." 



SKETCHES OF TEA VEL. 437 



Perfume-dealer. — " I have some water that I wash my 
perfume vials in ; it has some smell. Will the pasha of 
five tails stand that ?" 

Dragoman. — " Oh, yes ; he'll never know the difference. 
And as for the grand vizier, he doesn't know beans when 
the bag is open." 

Gen. G. (in English, to dragoman). — " What are you 
talking about ? Why don't you show me the b'ar's oil ? 
Hurry up your cakes." 

Dragoman (in English, to Gen. C). — "I am telling him 
that you are a perfume-dealer in your own country, and 
that it is utterly impossible to impose upon you, either in 
the quality or in the price. You see, sir, these fellows, I 
regret to say to you, are not always strictly honest ; and 
by this course I am certain that he will give you a good 
article at the very lowest price." 

Gen. C. (in English). — " Bully for you !" [Here per- 
fume-dealer produces a dirty bottle, filled with a greasy 
substance.] 

Perfume-dealer (in Arabic, to Dragoman). — " Here is 
the dish-w T ater ; but be careful. The big fellow looks as 
if he might have smelt ottar of roses. Try the Effendi 
first." 

Dragoman (in Arabic). — " Oh, no danger ; neither of 
them ever smelt any thing more fragrant than a boiled cab 
bage." [Offers the bottle to the General, who smells 
with appearance of great deliberation and care ; stops, 
reflects, and smells again, then passes the bottle to me.] 

Gen. C. (to Effendi S.).— " What do you think of it?" 
[I smell with a wise look and pass it back.] 

Effendi S. (to Gen. C.).— " Can't say. I think it has a 
smell ; but never having met with it before, would not 
like to commit myself." 

Gen. G. (to dragoman). — " What's the price ?". 

Dragoman (in Arabic, to perfume-dealer). — " Show me 
the smallest vial in the shop." [The perfume-dealer pro- 



438 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



duces a microscopic vial, and says, in Arabic, l< Here you 
are, but draw it mild ; you may bluff them clean off."] 

Gen. C. (in English, to dragoman). — " What does the 
old fellow say ?" 

Dragoman. — " He says that he will fill this vial for five 
dollars ; that the roses came from the Prophet's own gar- 
den at Mecca ; but I do not think I would give so much ; 
I think he can be got to take four dollars. I will try 
him, if you say so. The article is, I am sure, the very 
best in the world." 

We say so, and a conversation ensues between the 
perfume-dealer and dragoman in angry tones, lasting 
two minutes or more, resulting in our purchasing about 
twenty drops of greasy substance at four dollars each, 
and at the same time convincing us that we have the good 
fortune to possess the only honest dragoman in all Egypt. 

The immediate outlay had only been four dollars apiece, 
but we had traveled over thirteen thousand miles to get 
it. We had got the genuine thing, for it had been sold to 
us in the name of the Prophet, and upon the inviolable 
word of a Mussulman. We therefore prized it above 
rubies. Upon reflection I came to the conclusion that I 
had not bought enough. California is a new county, 
and is quite at the antipodes of the land of Sweet Smells. 
Our society is cultivated and exclusive ; the Republican 
party is about to be largely increased, and our system of 
drainage is as yet incomplete. All these causes unite to 
increase the number of bad smells or to render their coun- 
teraction desirable. Besides it was no secret that I was 
to be proposed as a member of the Pacific Club on my 
return home. What more befitting compliment could I 
pay to that set of select, high-bred gentlemen, than to 
enter their halls for the first time exhaling the sweet 
odors of the Orient. I resorted to the lower walks of 
mathematics and made an estimate of the expenditure of 
the raw material necessary to carry out all these plans. 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 



439 



Two drops for my entry at the Pacific Club, one drop 
each for the municipal election in the spring, and the State 
election in the fall, one for the two or three times I must 
attend church on my return. This with the presents to 
friends, would, I soon ascertained, empty the bottle the 
first year. It was obvious I must have more ottar of 
roses. 

The next day I again set off — this time alone and in a 
furtive manner. I concealed my intentions from the 
General. I found the ancient Turk seated amidst his 
sweet-scented jugs, smoking, and piously passing his 
beads from one finger to another. He was making plans 
for his harem, to be filled with the seventy-two bright- 
eyed houries, promised in the next world by the Prophet 
to all true believers. I recalled him to this wicked sphere 
and to the fact that in order to live he must submit to 
the degradation of dealing with Christian dogs. He 
recognized me, and without speaking or removing the 
pipe from his lips set out the jar of ottar of rose. I 
affected indifference, having already bought sufficient, but 
offered him one dollar for a bottle double the size I bought 
the previous day. To my astonishment, after a little dis- 
cussion, he took me. up, poured out the stuff and corked 
and sealed it. As an experiment I then picked up a 
second bottle, twice the size of that, and offered the old 
fellow fifty cents, or two English shillings, to fill that. 
This was accepted with greater alacrity than the first, 
and I found myself proprietor of ottar of rose in quanti- 
ties, that instead of being estimated by drops ascended 
far up in the scale of wine measure. There still remained 
more than a pint in the jug from which we had all bought 
our ottar, and I brought the seance to a close by buying 
that entire jug and all for one shilling. The old fellow 
then put his hand behind the little shelf and brought out 
a fresh bottle containing about a quart, and asked me to 
make him an offer for it. A moment's calculation satisfied 



440 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 

me that it was worth in San Francisco, according to the 
information that I had from Gen. C, at the very least, 
seventeen thousand five hundred and forty dollars. But 
I had already in my pockets and under my arm over ten 
thousand dollars' worth to be smuggled through the 
custom-house ; and although the old fellow was evidently 
prepared to accept an offer of fifteen cents for the lot, I 
felt obliged to refrain from making it. The specific duties, 
if paid, would have been four or five thousand dollars at 
the very lowest estimate ; and to bribe the Collector 
would have taken at least a quarter of the ottar. 

I therefore gathered up my glass-ware as well as I could, 
and hurried home to the hotel. Hastily secreting my 
purchases in the various trunks and valises about the room, 
I went to find the General, meanwhile studying out some 
story to account for my absence. Looking into his room, 
what was my surprise to see one end of it arranged like 
an American apothecary shop. Bottles in rows and in 
circles; jugs on the floor and on the tops of trunks ; jars 
and cans and vials everywhere. The General was sitting 
at the table deeply immersed in some calculation. I 
glanced over his shoulder at the paper. It was divided 
into columns, Debit and Credit, and headed "Merchan- 
dise debtor to cash." " For purchase of Ottar of Rose, 
$4.3 The other column contained many rows of 
figures, but the last one exhibited the final result. It was 
$196,483.60. I called his name. He sprang to his feet 
and concealed the paper. u What's this ? General," said 
I. " A little speculation," he answered, making a violent 
effort to restrain his voice to a level tone. " I have bought 
four gallons of genuine ottar of rose." " You don't say 
so ! What have you done that for ?" " Well," he said, 
"I think there is money in it!" "What did it cost 
you ?" I asked. He gasped and stammered for a moment, 
and then gave me to understand, in strict confidence, that 
his real business in the East was to speculate in these 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 44L 



perfumes ; that he was a judge of them, and that he had 
that very morning, and by the merest chance, stumbled 
over a little lot of four gallons, and had bought it for the 
incredibly low price of less than four thousand dollars a 
gallon. It was worth fifty thousand dollars a gallon if it 
was worth a cent. 

But long before we left Cairo we learned that the gen- 
uine ottar of rose was not made in Egypt, but that Da- 
mascus was the place where alone it could be got in its 
purity. This was reasonable, for the rose of Damascus is 
known all over the world. Between Alexandria and 
Beyrout, as we sailed along the coast, the Syrian seas 
were often perfumed and made fragrant by whole bottles 
of pure ottar of rose being emptied into its classic waters. 
Why keep inferior perfumes, we argued, when we are 
going to the place where alone the best is to be procured? 
At Damascus again, we sought the perfume merchants. 
We found but one, and this near to the entrance of the 
silk bazaar in the street called Straight. We demanded 
the price of the best ottar of rose. A row of bottles was 
pointed out; each contained about twenty drops. The 
price was one golden Napoleon per bottle. We pre- 
tended to be disgusted, and turned away, but we were 
recalled and asked to make an offer. This we did, and 
selected two one-ouiice vials and offered a Napoleon for 
the two filled with ottar of rose. It was at least forty 
times as much as he had asked one Napoleon for. At first 
the old fellow refused, but I soon saw that he intended to 
accept our offer, and told the General so. " What shall 
we do if he takes us up ?" We hit upon a plan ; it was 
to pretend that we had meant a larger bottle. In a mo- 
ment the perfume-dealer came to our bid and accepted. 
Whereupon we each seized upon a bottle just double the 
size of the one agreed upon, and swore by the beard of 
the Christian's prophet that that and no other was the 
bottle we had stipulated for. But, to our amazement, 
19* 



442 



GOING TO JERICHO; 



after a moment's dispute, the merchant agreed that we 
were right, and began to fill up the large bottles. After 
filling mine from the jug, he corked and sealed it, and 
then began on that of the General ; but when it was 
about two-thirds full the jug gave out, and resort was had 
to a fresh one from behind the shelf. M Stop," said the 
General, catching the merchant's arm, " let me smell of 
that." He did so, and declared that it had no smell at 
all ; it was pure sweet oil. I smelt it and came to the 
same conclusion. Thereupon the honest merchant allowed 
the General to have his bottle filled from the small bot- 
tles ready sealed, being the same which he had demanded 
a golden Napoleon, or four dollars each for when we be- 
gan. This was done, and no less than three of those 
poured in before the bottle was full. I felt a little dissat- 
isfaction at this, while he was evidently correspondingly 
elated. The General had in his bottle the contents of 
three small ones, worth twelve dollars, besides an ounce 
and a half of the same substance as that which filled mine. 
But we paid our money and returned to the hotel. 

The first person we met was Demit ri Cara, the land- 
lord. With proud satisfaction we showed him our pur- 
chase. u Ottar of rose," said he, " is a substance that 
resembles crystallized honey. That which you have bought 
is bad sweet oil, with a few drops of essence of rose 
sprinkled in it to give it the smell. Ottar of rose stands 
solid in the bottle and can not be poured out without 
first warming it. Ottar of rose," continued Demitri, " is 
made in Adrian ople." We bought no more in Damas- 
cus ; but in the course of our travels we reached Smyrna. 
In the mean time, our want of success in buying per- 
fumes had rendered us more liberal toward our fellow- 
travelers. The General had imparted to me the secret 
of the value and peculiar character of ottar of rose, in a 
confidential way. It was understood that we alone of all 
the party were to astonish our friends in America by the 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 443 



startling fragrance of our persons. The sweet and vola- 
tile essence was to be concealed from all human beings 
until it should discover itself to the delighted nostrils of 
our admiring friends. But the thing had worked so badly 
that by the time we reached Smyrna we felt disposed to 
permit others to share with us the doubtful glory of Ori- 
ental perfumes. Capt. T. and Mr. C. had, up to that time, 
been strictly excluded from the little Ottar of Rose So- 
ciety, and were, from hard travel and hot weather, in the 
worst possible odor ; to tell the truth, they smelt like so 
many Egyptians. At Smyrna, assisted by Capt. T., who 
had been let in, we made the important geographical dis- 
covery that Adrianople is not over three days' travel 
overland from that port. The conclusion was inevitable 
that this was the place to buy ottar of rose. The Cap- 
tain, being a merchant, was placed at the head of affairs. 
Having been a sea-captain, he advised an application to 
the American consul. Accordingly, we stated our case 
to that official, who recommended to us a Jew merchant 
in the Greek quarter, whither we hastened with all 
speed. 

The Jew received us kindly, and complimented us 
upon our wisdom in seeking his establishment. He said 
he was the only honest dealer in ottar of rose in all 
Smyrna ; that had we gone elsewhere we should have 
inevitably been cheated out of our eye-teeth, but that we 
were now free from all danger of that sort to our masti- 
cating apparatus, and could depend upon smelling as 
sweet as so many posies, in less time than a jiffy. He 
took down his jar from the shelf and drew the cork. It 
smelt all right, but the practiced eye of the General dis- 
covered that it lacked the appearance of crystallized 
honey, the infallible test of the genuine article. Upon 
his mentioning the fact, the aged merchant again compli- 
mented us upon having with us one so acute in observing 
the peculiarities of a good article. But he explained that 



GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



but five minutes before we entered the shop a party 
of English had just left it ; that to those Islanders, the 
best judges of ottar of roses in the world, he had sold of 
that substance, and that in filling their bottles he had 
necessarily been obliged to warm the perfume so that it 
had taken a liquid state ; but if we would wait a half an 
hour it would resume its natural hardness, and we would 
be satisfied with the test. We were content with the 
explanation and bought without waiting. Captain T., 
with all the enthusiasm of a now member of the Society 
of Perfumers, bought thirty dollars' worth of ottar of 
rose, besides sixteen dollars' worth of cinnamon oil for his 
beard, and eleven dollars' worth of vanilla to perfume his 
hair, stating as a reason, the necessity he would be under 
to look after the primary elections upon his return home. 
But we all went in pretty extensively. Faying up, and 
being assured that we could watch at our leisure the 
interesting chemical phenomenon of the crystallization of 
the ottar of rose, as it would occur in the bottles, we 
departed from the house of the friendly Jew and re- 
turned to our hotel. Here we sat for two hours, gazing, 
each man at his vial. A watched pot never boils. We 
attributed it to the warm weather. It was four days 
before we reached Constantinople, and the weather in 
the Dardanelles was cold and stormy. But the precious 
perfume was as oily as the moment it left the pot of the 
friendly Jew in Smyrna. Nature refused to do her duty 
in our case. The ottar of rose would not crystallize. We 
were forced to the unwelcome conclusion that we were 
again swindled. 

We were in despair. All the ten days that we dwelt 
in Constantinople, w r e ran up and down the bazaars, 
hunting for the genuine ottar of rose. It had come to 
such a point with us that have it we must. At last 
Far-away-Moses found a dealer in amber, who also kept, 
for particular friends, a very little of the genuine stuff, 



SKETCHES OF TRA VEL. 



445 



but would only sell it as a great favor. Thither we 
went in force and demanded the perfume. The mer- 
chant drew from under his counter a jar of oil, looking as 
all the rest had done, not hard like candied honey, but 
decidedly oleaginous. We began to wink and look 
knowingly at each other. " This is the old thing," said 
the General, in a whisper. The merchant caught the 
look and understood it, " This is not the real," he said. 
" The genuine is hard, like honey. I merely take this out 
to show you the difference. Here is the good article," 
he went on to say, and producing another bottle two- 
thirds filled with something looking like candied honey. 
" Ah," we all said in a breath, " here it is at last, the real 
stuff." And again we went in, the Captain beating us 
all in the extent of his purchases. But no sooner had 
we got back to the hotel than we were informed that we 
had again been swindled, and that what we had bought 
was rose-scented sweet oil with stearine candles scraped 
into it. 

We were again in despair. We had taken passage for 
Athens, and the ship was to sail the next day. At last 
we determined to seek the aid of the United States min- 
ister. We called on General Morris and laid the case 
before him. It was fortunate, he said ; he knew of a 
Prussian house that was in the business of buying and 
exporting the ottar of rose. This pleased General C. 
especially. He had resided in Germany, spoke the lan- 
guage like a native, and fully believed that it was morally 
impossible for a German to be otherwise than honest. In 
the mean time the hour for the ship to sail drew on 
apace. We got the ladies and baggage on board the 
ship three hours before it was time to sail, and then hiring 
a caique put off for Stamboul to seek the Prussian perfume- 
deal er. We found him in his counting-room smelling 
like a giant of battle rose. " Ye gaitz, Lantzman," said 
the General, familiarly but courteously, addressing the 



44:6 GOING TO JERICHO; OR, 



honest Teuton in his own language. The Dutchman 
looked up and said, " Good morning," in the American 
language. This opened up the business ; the General 
being a German acted as spokesman for the party. u Yes, 
the German had oddo off roshe ;" but he was a wholesale 
merchant and sold it by the barrel, or in some such great 
quantity. The thing looked u dusty " for a time. The 
Dutchman never sold less than a barrel. We only wanted 
a few drops. At last the Captain spoke. He said that 
there was a party of us, consisting of three gentlemen and 
their wives, who had been driven from their homes upon 
the Pacific Ocean by the abominable smells of the un- 
washed Democracy, which pervaded the whole commu- 
nity, not even respecting the sanctuaries ; that they had 
fled from it for nineteen thousand miles, where upon the 
shores of the Mediterranean they had been told of a 
remedy. That by selling them this matchless disinfectant 
they would be enabled to return to their own homes and 
resume their places in society ; while if it were denied to 
them they must continue their wanderings. Whether it 
was the Captain's eloquence or senatorial bearing I can 
not say, but we were told that if we would return in an 
hour we should each have a half-dozen vials of the real 
thing. Accordingly, in an hour we went back, and found 
that he had put up for each of us a paper case containing 
six little bottles, about four inches long, with an opening 
down the center for the otto about the size of a knitting- 
needle. The vials were corked, and had oil silk put over 
the tops. The price was a Napoleon each box. This we 
threw down, seized the boxes and hurried on board the 
ship. 

For a time we were happy. But the ingenuity of 
Oriental merchants is only equaled by the Franks that 
dwell around them. The little vials would not contain 
over thirty drops by any possibility, if full. And before 
we had reached the Greek capital the ladies made the dis- 



SKETCHES OF TRAVEL. 447 

coyery that they were all empty. The honest Dutchman 
had simply corked, sealed, and. oil-silked the empty vials. 
And we, alas ! smell no more sweetly than when we left 
California. 



THE END. 



List of Books 

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Hittell (Jolin S.) The Resources of California; comprising Agri- 
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paper. 1 00 

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LATE PUBLICATIONS. 

A Sketch of the Eoute to California, China, and Japan ; via The 

Isthmus of Panama. A useful and amusing book to every traveler. Paper.. 50 

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12mo, cloth 1 75 

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paper 75 

Legal Titles to Mining Claims and Water Rights in California. By 
Gregory Yale, Counselor at Law. 8vo, sheep 7 50 

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coisTTA-iisriisra = 

Chinese History down to the Christian Era. 
Ancient Empire of China. Life of Confucius. 

Confucian Analects. Tai Hok, or the Great Learning. 

The Doctrine of the Mean. Mencius. 

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Pursuit of Knowledge under Dif- Rules of Etiquette. 

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